


Camp Wannapee

by reverseblackholeofwords, RubberSoles19



Series: Devil May Care [10]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Game Theory - Fandom, NateWantsToBattle - Fandom, Supernatural, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bows and Arrows, Brotherly Love, Deltarune characters cameos (kinda), Gen, Light Angst, Light Torture, Love Triangle, Mary Patrick's A+ Parenting, Parental Abuse, Stitches, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Young Love, and faceclaimed OCs from Daybreak, another hunt!, fnaf au, john smith's A+ parenting, lots of flashbacks, mixing up the style a little bit, nothing graphic, step-brothers au, they babies a lot, they babies again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reverseblackholeofwords/pseuds/reverseblackholeofwords, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberSoles19/pseuds/RubberSoles19
Summary: Three months after the catastrophe in Vegas, Matt is finally pushed to his breaking point, and must find his little brother - no matter the cost. Together, they have to investigate a place from their past that holds high emotions for both brothers - Camp Wannapee - and try to reconcile their pasts and present. Oh, and Nate has had his head and emotions scrambled up for the last three months by his abusive father. Oh, and Matt's first childhood crush is back. Oh, and so is Afton.In which: the boys take a job at an old camp from their childhoods, and must once again stop Afton before he hurts anyone - including themselves.
Relationships: Matthew Patrick & Nathan Sharp
Series: Devil May Care [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646251
Comments: 122
Kudos: 32





	1. Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Brother Gone?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back! We missed everyone :)
> 
> Camp actually - through some manner of witchcraft - ended up being shorter than Blood, but we are still amping up our upload schedule just a little. So, we will be posting Mondays/Tuesdays, and Thursdays/Fridays, taking the weekends and Wednesdays off so none of us get overwhelmed. But we're excited. Camp is one of our favorite episodes so far, and we really think y'all will enjoy it too.
> 
> Now, with all that out of the way, let's dive right in:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to check the links for the visuals :)

[[Nate](https://youtu.be/1xMVROrKbgI)] [[Matt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rsBJ4eIH6o)] [[Pam](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8K2Ul_06ps)]

Patrick Apartment  
August 2011

“Ro - it’s me again. Anything new?”

Matt's voice shook as he paced back and forth across the length of the apartment’s balcony, his hoodie hastily thrown over his pajamas in the damp, morning air.

“Yes, I know - I know what you said, that he ‘ran off to Vegas and never came back,’ but you’re in Hunter Central! Someone has to have heard something!”

In mounting desperation, Matt tugged at his hair. He’d made this call about a hundred times, and Ro still had no news for him.

“Well, I don’t know - ask again! Ask more people! I don’t care who, just…”

Finally, Matt stopped pacing, hugging himself tight with one arm as he tried to force himself to breathe slowly. Pain sparked behind his eyes, and his shoulder hit the apartment wall.

“I’m sorry, Ro… I’m sorry. I just… It’s been three months since I’ve seen my little brother.” His voice broke as he screwed his eyes shut against the worsening headache. “And if you can’t find him then-” He should’ve gotten Ro involved sooner, got word around that Nate was with his dad again. Then maybe someone would've known to look out for them sooner, and Matt could've found him by now. Maybe a lot of things would be different, but John Smith could be terrifying.

And Matt didn’t want to put a target on his friends’ backs.

“Yeah, let me know if you hear anything. Thanks again.” Matt hung up and pressed his phone to his forehead. Then in a sudden burst of light, images filled Matt’s mind, and he clutched his head with both hands and fell to his knees.

Another burning sigil, dark, shaggy hair, the flash of a silver knife, and a flicker of fire - visions so real they could be memories - he panted desperately and sagged against the wall. The cool surface of the brick scraped his cheek. Sweat dripped down his face, and he could feel icy cold fingers splayed over the mark carved into the skin of his collarbone.

This couldn’t be good.

* * *

Matt sat among his notes and laptop and discarded coffee mugs, all of it spread over the kitchen table in an organized chaos. A list of names and numbers was set beside the laptop, many of them already crossed out. Matt tapped his pen against the paper as he dialed another number.

“You're sure there's no one there by that name? ‘Jim Rockford’?” Matt traced a thumb over his bottom lip as he listened and then rubbed at his eyes. His shoulders sank in disappointment. “Okay, thank you.”

His phone hit the tabletop, and he crossed out the number.

Matt stared over his notes with bleary eyes. He’d called every motel around Medina, around Vegas, checked for all of Nate’s old aliases. He searched for John’s license plate, the Firebird’s, active hunts they might be on together, but no one had any information.

Pages and pages and pages of crossed-out notes. Three months of searching and hoping, all for nothing. Matt dropped his head into his heads in a swell of despair.

Then a knock at the door shocked him from his sharp downward spiral, and Matt reached for his knife. Stalking to the door and peering through the peephole, Matt frowned when he saw who was on the other side, but he opened it anyway. It was Pamela Horton, sipping a big iced coffee through a green straw.

“Heya, Matty.” She scooted past Matt into the apartment with an appraising glance around at the meager living arrangements. “Quick, better let me in before the neighbors see and get a-talkin'.” Finally her gaze landed on Matt again who was glaring at her silently. Pam poked out her bottom lip. “What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped without an ounce of patience left.

Pam’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh, language! There’s a lady present!”

“A ‘lady’? Oh, there are a lot of other words I could think of right now besides ‘Lady’ to describe you,” Matt spat and watched as she walked to the kitchen table and set her cup down on his legal pad full of notes and numbers. Matt's whole body jolted like she'd stabbed him. “Oh - gee - really! Really?”

He rushed over to try to salvage what he could of the list before the sweat from her drink smudged too much of the writing, but Pam didn’t seem bothered. “What? It obviously wasn’t doing you any good.”

Pain stinging behind his eyes, Matt had to count to ten, slowly. _Twice_.

“You said in your message - your _many_ messages - several things I won't repeat,” Pam gave a somewhat sarcastic smile, “as well as the fact that you needed my help again.”

He turned back to her, the now soggy list held tight in his shaking hands. “Yes. I need you to find someone.”

Her smile grew brighter, and she clapped her hands together, perfect purple nails glittering in the morning light coming in through the kitchen window. “Well, finding things is what I do!”

Matt nodded once. “I need you to find Nate.”

Immediately Pam’s smile fell. “Unfortunately, that is one thing I can’t do.”

She snatched up her drink and started for the door again like the building was on fire, but Matt grabbed her arm, swinging himself around in front of her to block her exit out the door. He wasn’t about to let her get away so easily. Especially when she might be his only chance of ever seeing his brother again. “Whoa - whoa - hey! You said you were the best!”

Pam held up a finger towards Matt’s nose. “Yes, because I am, but that doesn't mean I want to put my head on a _platter_ by pissing off the wrong people.” Pam poked at her drink with the green straw, frowning down at the frothy bubbles. “Mainly John Smith.”

Matt blinked at her. Somehow it was hard to imagine her being afraid of anyone, even John. But he held up his hands between them, all but pleading for her to hear him out. “Look, I know John is a dangerous man-” She scoffed loudly at that - Understatement of the Year. “But that's why I'm trying to find Nate, to make sure he's not with John.” Maybe he'd gotten away like he had before nearly six years ago. Maybe he just hadn't bothered to call Matt or let him know he was still alive. Maybe he was hiding somewhere. Matt didn't know. He just knew that anything - or almost anything - would be better than Nate spending three months with John.

Pam flexed her jaw and drummed her manicured nails against the Starbucks cup. “And if he is?”

“I just need you to find him, one or the other,” Matt said, eyes filled to overflowing with that horrible, gnawing desperation. “I don't care which.”

For a moment, Pam regarded Matt in silence - those stupid, dewy, sensitive eyes of his - and finally, she caved and dug in her purse for a flash drive. “Well, if I'm sticking my neck out, I need something in return.” She tossed the drive at Matt’s chest. “It's a lead on a hunt. Something you'll be interested in, I'm sure.”

“Pam, I’m kind of on a deadline with something else,” Matt started, but she just held up a hand to stop him.

“Hey. Take it, look at it, I'll get back to you.” Pam watched as he closed his hand around the flash drive and nodded slowly. It was kind of pathetic, how badly he wanted to please Nathan. So badly that he would take the cure from her back in Vegas, that he would all but grovel to her now to find dear little brother again. She really did hate just how much she pitied him for it, like the pity was a stain she couldn’t quite get out of her favorite shirt. Nodding as well, Pam headed for the door, and this time Matt stepped aside to let her go. But she paused as she turned the knob. “Matt? Whatever I find..." She took a deep breath. "...don't shoot the messenger.”

Matt rubbed at his hair, fingers getting tangled in the knotted mess of curls. “I know.” He sighed as his shoulders fell. “I just need to find them.”

Pam nodded and let the door swing shut behind her.

Later that night, Matt was in bed. He’d been laying there for hours trying to convince his brain to go to sleep, but it was spinning with the possibilities of what was happening to Nate in that exact moment, where he might be, what John might’ve done to him. Matt grasped at his stomach as it ached the more his anxiety grew. He turned onto his side with a groan, curling in on himself.

Hearing this, Steph reached over to turn on the lamp on the bedside table before turning back to him. She always could sense when he was going into a spiral, and she took his hand in hers, pulling it to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “Breathe, deep breaths, okay?”

Matt nodded bashfully and did his best. Steph curled against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He followed her pattern of breathing and traced his fingers through her hair to distract himself from his thoughts. Just when the knots in his stomach began to unwind, Matt’s phone rang, and he sprang up to answer it, Steph sitting up with him. She tightened her hold on his hand as she leaned in to listen.

“Pam?” He froze and looked down at Stephanie. “Where?”

* * *

Fayetteville, WV  
Blue Roof Inn  
36 Hours Later

In a little town tucked away in the mountains of West Virginia, the Blue Roof Inn stood above the other buildings in the area, the parking lot lined in shrubs shaved down into perfect rectangular shapes. Matt’s eyes scanned the lot, and sure enough, a familiar old Dodge pickup was parked near the back, in the furthest space from the road. But no Firebird.

Matt parked next to the truck and got out of his car, slinging the strap of his messenger bag over one shoulder and picking up a twelve-pack of beers from underneath the passenger seat. The room at the very end, the one closest to the truck, had the curtains drawn, and Matt walked up to it and knocked on the door.

He didn’t have to wait long, but every second felt like an eternity.

The door opened, revealing John Smith’s smarmy grin. His facial hair was shaggier than it had been in Las Vegas, but he looked genuinely pleased - if a little bit surprised - to see Matt.

“Well, what do you know? Come on in, Matthew.”

Matt entered the room as John shut the door behind them, and a sense of claustrophobia overtook him.

Matt noted every little detail as he walked through the room. Weapons were laid out on every flat surface to be cleaned after a recent hunt. Matt remembered that familiar smell of the mixture of cleaning liquids, and it turned his already aching stomach. Empty beer bottles littered the floor around the bed nearest to the door, and the other bed was neatly made aside from an open duffel bag that sat at the foot of it, a few items spread around it, Nate's glasses, one of his notebooks, more empty beer bottles.

It was obvious that Nate had been there, but now, there was no sign of him.

Slowly, Matt turned back to John and lifted the twelve-pack into the air between them. “For you. A little… apology, for Vegas.”

John stared at him long and hard. Of course, he knew that Matt would probably find them eventually, but this certainly wasn’t what he had expected. Eventually, he took the beers. “Apology, huh? Didn't think you understood the meaning of the word.” He dropped into the only chair in the room and opened one of the bottles as Matt took a seat on the corner of Nate’s bed, trying not to visibly wince. His whole body pulsed with pain, from the top of his head down to his feet, and with every fearful pound of his heart, the aching in his head flared again.

“I know why you’re here,” John said and leaned back in the chair, Matt keeping his expression calm, “and you can forget it. Nathan needs someone to whip him back into shape, not someone who has bought into his little games of self-pity.” John hardened his gaze at Matt. “He's not going anywhere.”

Matt took a deep breath and propped himself back on one of his hands. “I’m not here for Nate, at least not how you think.”

That gave John a pause.

“When I was a kid," Matthew continued, "I did everything I could to make myself Nate’s hero. It was kinda fun having someone who killed monsters on the weekends hanging onto my every word the rest of the time, you know?” Matt glanced up at John again as he took another long, deep breath, sunlight catching in his hazel eyes. “But, what happened six years ago at Freddy's after Nate…”

Matt sat up straighter and swallowed the growing lump in his throat. His voice took on a new edge, and now he could let a little of that frustration through, even if he was directing it away from John. “There’s a reason I left for school and never looked back. It was because Nate called me, begging and pleading for my help, and then when I showed up, he threw me directly into the fire.”

John stared and scrutinized Matt as he spoke, never once betraying what he was thinking.

Matt rubbed his hands together and continued. He’d rehearsed this speech so often in the car ride over that he could probably say the whole thing backwards by now. “Then I messed up, got involved in this rat race again when I saw that a company had bought up Freddy’s and shut everything down overnight. Seemed suspicious, so I checked it out and got myself caught.” That certainly wouldn’t surprise John, Matt being over-confident and stupid. “Nate got wind of it, showed up to save me, but he, the great Nathan Smith, hunter extraordinaire, acted like I owed him my life.”

When Matt spotted the waste bin at John’s feet full of bloody bandages, he almost lost the trail of his story, almost, but he was going to let a little blood - or a lot, even if it might’ve been Nate’s - get him off course now. “I, uh, excused it at first, you know? I’d missed him, but Vegas showed me the truth about what he really thought of me. And of course, I blamed you for it, just like I always did.”

Matthew fluffed his hands through his hair and stood up, pacing back and forth as John’s eyes trailed after him. “But I’ve had three months to come to my senses, and I’ve decided, you know what?” Matt paused, took a deep breath, and said the three words he knew John Smith would want to hear most. “You were right.”

A muscle in John’s jaw twinged, and that was all the reaction Matt got out of him.

So, he kept going, using every little trick he hoped John would buy into. “Nate's got a bad attitude, and I've had it up to here with him playing the victim.” Matt’s hands curled into fists. He hated this. He could barely breathe, let alone keep spewing all this nonsense, but he needed John to believe him. “He's not the poor, haunted little brother I thought he was, and I don't think he ever was to begin with. Nate hides behind those ghosts in his head so he doesn't have to answer for how messed up he really is, and I'm - I'm sorry that I didn't see it before. You were always just trying to keep him in check, and I realize that now.”

John nodded and took another long swig of his beer. Sighing, he turned his head up at Matt. “That's one hell of an apology. But if you're not here to see Nathan, what brings you all the way to the middle of nowhere?” He raised his eyebrows with another sly smirk. “Surely not for my pretty face.”

Decidedly not, Matt thought, and fished in his messenger bag for the file he’d brought with him, handing it over to John. “I've got a case I wanted to give you because I knew you were the only one who could handle it. It involves Afton.”

“Thought you weren’t a hunter,” John said as he opened the file anyway.

Shrugging, Matt pushed a hand through his hair. “I'm not. But Afton tried to kill me, so I think I'm allowed to want a little revenge of my own.”

“Charleston County Children's hospital in Florida?” He looked up from the file at Matthew again. “What would Afton be doing there?”

Matt pointed to a small photo paper-clipped to one corner of the file, a picture of a young boy. “Apparently, after one kid was severely injured at a Freddy's - got his head chomped on by one of the animatronics - he was treated at Charleston County until he died at home not long after.”

“So?”

“Afton’s MO is all over it. Kid got chewed on during the night shift, found by the janitor at six AM the next morning, security guard from the night before was nowhere to be found, and the police never managed to track him down.” Matt gestured towards the timeline he’d drawn out himself on a sheet of graph paper. It was extensive to say the least.

“But why the hospital?” John asked when he finally looked up at Matt again.

“In the last couple of weeks, there have been reports of strange activities, almost like the ICU has been haunted. And the house the kid died in?” Matt reached across to flip to one page in the notes, an online listing for the home. “Just got bought and sold and totally renovated not even a month ago. Afton goes after kids for their souls, so maybe he'll try to finish off this kid now that he's kicking around again.”

After another moment of reviewing the notes, John slapped the file closed and dropped it to the floor at his feet. “Are you expecting an invitation to this or something?” John asked with no small amount of contempt in his voice. He gestured at Matt with one hand, all six feet of his gangling limbs and awkward angles. “This isn't a spectator sport, kid.”

Wincing, Matt held up a hand. “I know, trust me,” he said, “but no, I’ll be busy.”

John let his head lean to one side. “Doing what? You got another musical or something?” Another smirk, and Matt’s skin kept crawling. “Never did get to see you in ‘Oklahoma.’ Such a shame.”

“I’ve got another lead,” Matt muttered and pulled out a second manila folder from his messenger bag. “Not on Afton himself, but hopefully on some information about him. There’s a summer camp in Pennsylvania, actually, where a lot of the former staff of the local Freddy's are now working, some who might’ve interacted with him based on reports of suspicious activity at that restaurant. I'll be heading there to question them. Not as solid, but still worth checking out.”

Gesturing at Matt with the beer bottle, John shifted in his seat. “So what’s stopping you?”

And this was what it all came down to, the hardest part of Matt’s little act to sell.

He glanced away again, through the space between the curtains covering the window, tugging at his hair awkwardly. He stashed the file back into his messenger bag and folded his hands. “Well, I'm not a hunter, like you pointed out. I don't know how to question these people... I'd need help.” It didn’t take John long to connect the dots, and when he did, he wasn’t happy about it. He slammed his beer down onto the table, making Matt jump.

“Let me get this straight,” he snapped, “you want me to check out this hospital down in _Florida_ while you take my boy with you to go investigate some summer camp up in Pennsylvania? And why, exactly, would I agree to that?”

Why, indeed? Matt’s face twisted in indecision as he ran the numbers in his head, calculating the odds. He didn’t really want to resort to using his trump card, but under the circumstances… Nate's face flashed through Matt's mind, and he cleared his throat. “Because of the hallucinations.”

John stared at him, and Matthew felt a chill run down his spine.

“They’ve been getting worse, haven’t they?” Matt asked, slowly, carefully.

Still no answer, but John didn’t deny it either.

“What if I told you that those are exactly what I need in this case.” Matt deflected John’s skeptical look and kept explaining, “Nate can see Afton's victims, always has. How else do you think he knew to come looking for me when I got captured?”

Matthew pointed at his messenger bag where the file was stashed while trying very hard not to let his hands shake. “Well, if I can figure out who he's seeing, I can figure out who I need to talk to at this camp. Maybe they've been sucked on by Afton themselves or know someone who was. Either way, it could give us an idea of where Afton is now.”

A tense silence filled the room as John considered everything Matt had told him. He finished off the rest of his beer and set the bottle aside, and Matt hoped that John couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. The thought crossed his mind that he might pass out at any moment, and that certainly wouldn't help his case. Finally, John sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

“If I let you do this - and I still haven’t made up my mind that I will,” he said and glared a hole in Matt’s forehead, “I want your word you’ll call me the second you find out where Afton is.”

Matt felt his chest swell with hope like it hadn’t in three months, like he might've actually pulled it off and everything might turn out alright, but he shoved it all down so deep into his stomach that it settled there next to the hole his anxiety had slowly been eating away. “Of course.”

“And when we’re done,” John continued, his voice measured and calm, “this doesn’t change anything. He’s _my_ boy, and I want him hunting with _me_ so that I can keep him out of trouble.”

Matt wanted to scream, rage boiling in his chest and threatening to scald his throat. Because Nate didn’t belong to John, and this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. But he had to bite his tongue and tell John what he wanted to hear. “Once Afton is out of the picture, I’m done with this, all of it. I never even wanted to hunt in the first place. You know that.”

John got to his feet and pointed down at Matt, towering over him. “Swear it.”

Matt set his jaw, met John’s eyes, and lied through his teeth. “I swear.”


	2. Just Think Happy Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it is so good to be back with the sweet, sweet promise of brotherly angst!

Fayetteville, WV  
Blue Roof Inn  
August, 2011

With a bag of food sitting in his passenger seat, Nate pulled the Firebird into the parking lot of the Blue Roof Inn and got out. The day was a scorcher, and the brightness of the sun overhead wasn't doing any favors for the headache he was nursing even after the medicine he'd taken on the drive back from picking up food. He was trying to work his keys into his front pocket when he looked up to see a silver Prius parked next to his dad’s truck and paused. He almost dropped the food at the sight of it.

Because that silver Prius meant…

Then the door to their motel room opened, and Matt stood there, glaring at him. “About time you got back,” he muttered as he walked towards Nate. Matt was there. Only rather than doing the typical Matt thing and hugging Nate or yelling at John or any of it really, Matt was visibly annoyed with Nate. None of it made sense, which meant it probably wasn’t real. “The Firebird have gas in it?” Matthew asked when Nate didn’t respond.

Stunned silent, Nate stared at him, trying to figure out what was happening. He felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch him to make sure, but he quickly told that part of his brain to shut up. It was becoming a habit. Besides, Matt might really be there, but he wasn’t acting like himself. And John was... Nate’s skin jumped as John appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression emotionless. Matt snapped his fingers in Nate’s face to regain his attention.

“Hey! Nathan! Firebird, gas, yea or nay?”

Nate just stared. He looked at his dad again, debating whether he should chance replying to the hallucination or not. But John was watching him expectantly, so he whimpered, “Yeah, it’s pretty close to full.”

“‘Pretty close’?” Matt rolled his eyes and pushed past him, their shoulders brushing, but Nate recoiled as if he’d been hit, shocked by the sudden physical contact. Did that mean… “Whatever. We’ll fill it up before we leave.”

Nate turned after him. “Wait - leave?”

“Yes, we’re leaving!” Matt shouted over his shoulder as he fumbled with his keys to unlock his own car. “Go get packed.”

Slowly, Nate’s shoulders fell. He’d dreamed - he didn’t know how many times - of that silver Prius showing up one day, of Matt coming to get him, but he should’ve known that Matt would still be pissed about all those things Nate said in Vegas. After all, after everything Matt had done, driving all the way there and risking his life, how had Nate repaid him?

He’d thrown it all in his face and left with John. He’d lied to him.

And Matt was pissed with him. He had every right to be.

So Nate turned back for the motel room, shoved past John, and tossed the bag of food onto the counter. Matt watched him go, once John’s back was turned, and felt his stomach twist up painfully at the sight. He kept fumbling with his keys, unable to get them into the lock as he tried to collect himself, but he couldn’t get the way Nate had looked at him - like he wasn't sure if Matt was real or not - out of his mind.

* * *

Inside, Nate paced to the far end of the motel room, his hands twisting at his shirt. Then he reached over and pinched hard at the skin of his upper arm just to convince himself that he was awake. When John closed the door behind him, Nate looked up at the noise and muttered, “What the hell is he doing here?”

Without a hint to show what he was really feeling, John shrugged. “He’s got a lead on some information that he wants your help with while I check out another case in Florida.” Nate blinked and felt like he needed to pinch himself again. “What?”

“He said he tracked Afton to a hospital down there, and you and him are heading to this summer camp place to question some old Freddy's employees.” John took another beer from the case and cracked it open, dropping the cap onto the counter where it spun for a moment before landing. “He seems to think he can actually put that craziness of yours to good use.”

Nate winced. Afton, craziness, Freddy’s, Matt showing up suddenly - he tried to fit the pieces together, but it was all happening so fast. All he knew was that he felt sick. And his dad was being far too casual about this whole thing.

“Problem?” John asked, looking up at him.

Nate plucked at the braided friendship bracelet on his wrist. He desperately wanted to say the right thing. “You're my partner. We're supposed to be hunting. Together. What about that poltergeist in Illinois you just found?”

“This is just a temporary thing,” John warned him as he dug his food out of the bag that Nate had brought. “Soon as the two of you are done, you're heading down to Florida, and he's heading back to wherever he's been for the last six years.”

Nate shook his head without thinking. “But-”

Suddenly John dropped everything and advanced on his son, clearing the length of the room in the blink of an eye, and Nate flinched back. “Nathan-! Don't you start arguing with me about every little detail again! I gave you an order, now you follow it!” He was in Nate’s face so that Nate couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You have any questions you can ask your brother. He's your new babysitter for the next couple of weeks. Understand?” Nate nodded, but John grabbed the collar of his flannel. “Answer me!” 

Eyes down, muscles tense, heart pounding, Nate answered, “Yes, sir. I'm sorry.”

John released him and took a step back.

Nate shuddered, but as soon as John went back to get his food, Nate rushed to pack his things without another word. He should’ve known better than to question John’s orders. Taking the notebook from the bed, he blanched a little, not realizing that he'd left it out when he'd went to get the food. Or had his dad taken it out and looked through it again after he left? Either way, Nate shoved it deep beneath his remaining clothes, whatever John hadn't forced him to throw out because it was too "childish," and zipped up the bag.

Taking a deep breath, Nate headed for the door, but at the last moment, John stepped in front of it.

“Be careful.”

Nate nodded, still keeping his eyes on the floor. “Yes, sir.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat as John stepped aside, and he opened the door. “You too.”

* * *

Ducking back outside, Nate glanced briefly at Matt in an attempt to gauge what he was thinking before Nate tossed his things into the back of the Firebird.

“Follow me back to the highway, and let me know when you need to stop to fill up.” Matt watched his brother over the top of his car, but Nate wouldn’t look at him again.

Instead, he just nodded and answered quietly, “Yes, sir.”

Matt felt the wind go out of him and glanced back to the motel room. If John was still watching them, he was being discreet, but Matt didn't want to risk it. So they both climbed into their own cars, and Matt led them out onto the highway, his whole body buzzing with nervous energy. For a few minutes, he constantly checked the mirror to make sure that the Firebird was still behind him, that they weren't being followed.

Soon he couldn't take it anymore. They hadn’t even been driving for a half hour before Matt pulled off to the side of the road at a little turn-off. He parked, unbuckled in a flash, and got out.

Confused, Nate did the same. He strode towards Matt with his head ducked. “What’s wrong?” he asked, wary that they’d pulled over so soon.

But Matt grabbed him suddenly, and Nate felt a jolt of fear, the expectation of pain, readying himself for whatever Matt was going to do. He deserved... But Matt just hugged him, hugged him so tight that Nate couldn't breathe, or maybe that was from the shock. Either way, he froze stiff as a cat hiding in the grass, every nerve on edge. Because sometimes John hugged him, too, but that didn't mean that Nate was safe. Maybe Matt wouldn't hit him, but after Vegas, after the way Matt acted back at the motel, certainly he was going to get one of Matthew's famous, scathing lectures.

And coming from his big brother, those almost hurt worse.

Meanwhile, Matt was spiraling internally again, crashing like a plane with one wing ripped off. Because Nate was so different, even after just three months. He’d lost weight. And his hair was short, so much shorter than he normally wore it, shorter even than John’s. And his eyes were tired and distant, even scared, and he wouldn’t look at Matt, not like normal, not like they were brothers. And Matt knew it was his fault, but he would fix all of that, whatever it took.

“God - I'm so sorry, Nate. This is all my fault, all of it.” He squeezed tighter even though Nate wouldn’t hug him back. He didn't know what else to do.

But by then Nate still hadn't moved a muscle. He was barely breathing, and Matt drew back to look at him. And for a split second, Nate looked terrified before he hid that away, so Matt took a step back, trying to understand, trying to show that he wasn't mad.

A little stunned, Nate swallowed the growing lump in his throat, watching his brother closely. “What are you talking about?”

Matt scoffed. He was expecting - well, he wasn’t quite sure. A breakdown of some kind, maybe even anger, but Nate just seemed hidden away. So Matt tried to explain himself, feeling a little dizzy and very worried for his kid brother. “I mean, Vegas, everything. I should have gone after you, I should have never let you go with him, I should have done something! Anything!”

Nate tried for a smile, but he knew that it looked as fake as it felt, like plastering on a mask, hoping that’s what Matt would want. “No - It’s okay, man. I’m fine.”

Matt's chest tightened and tightened, a string pulled so taut inside that it threatened to snap. The gnawing desperation was back, eating away at his insides, and he resisted the urge to shake this stranger in front of him and demand to know where his little brother was. “You're fine?” he scoffed. “Look at you! What - what happened to you? What did he do?”

It had been the wrong thing to say, his lie about being fine, Nate thought, and tried to correct himself quickly. “We were just - we've been hunting. You know how rough the road is, this is nothing. I'm fine.” He rubbed at his arm and stole a glance up at Matt’s eyes again. They seemed hurt but not angry at least. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

But then there was anger there. Matt’s brow furrowed, and Nate scrambled to correct himself again, “I mean-”

“ _I_ didn't do anything wrong?” Matt gawked, shaking his head. He’d spent all those weeks kicking himself for every mistake he’d made that day. He hadn’t done anything right, if he was honest. “I abandoned you! Again! With him! I knew he would hurt you, I knew he would turn you into this - but I... I'm not letting you go again, okay?”

After all, Matt could've done more to stop him from leaving with John, could've pulled out his pen knife and slashed John's tires before he could drive away. How many times had Matt dreamed of that in the months afterward? But he hadn't. He'd let his brother leave with that monster, and now Nate was different, so, so different.

“I'm not letting you go back to him, or letting him take you away,” Matt promised. He still wanted to wrap his brother in a hug, but he wasn’t sure Nate would let him. Matt looked away. “I know he's your dad and your first partner and he taught you everything you know and all that, but I'm sorry, Nate.” He shivered at the thought, shutting his eyes. “That's not happening. Not again, never again. Not on my watch.”

Nate felt the same terror of waking up from a nightmare as a child. Because maybe he'd left the monster behind in his dream, or maybe it was in the room with him, hiding in the shadows and waiting for him to close his eyes again and try to sleep. He wouldn't take his eyes off of Matt as he tried to process what he was hearing.

“Okay?” Matt asked and tried to understand what was going on in Nate’s head.

“Y-yeah.” _Don’t stammer, Nathan._ Wincing, Nate nodded his head and forced the words out of his chest. No time to go nonverbal now, real hunters knew how to use their words. “Whatever you say.”

But Matt’s heart broke a little. He knew, deep down, that Nate was just humoring him, that his brother didn’t trust Matt to take care of him anymore. And he had every right. Matt had failed him again.

Finally, he asked, “What happened?”

So many things had happened since he’d last seen Matt, Nate thought to himself, but he wasn’t sure how to answer. How could he possibly make Matt understand? Did he even want to? Instead, he bobbed his shoulders a little and asked, “What do you mean?”

Matt could feel himself coming apart at the seams. It took all he had not to beg Nate to tell him the truth, and he could tell that his desperation showed in his face because Nate scrambled to drop the fragile, casual facade quickly and said, “I didn’t tell him about Steph, I swear. I never breathed a word about her. She’s safe.”

Of course, Nate didn't want John to know about Steph, because she would've become leverage against Matt, and because if Nate could keep his dad away from Cordy, he'd do whatever it took. And still he looked unsure of himself even as he said it. The thought that he’d withheld any information from his dad made him shudder.

Matt frowned and traced his thumb over the fading scar on his palm, breathing a sigh of relief. The less John Smith knew about his wife, the better. “Oh, okay. Thank you.” Still, it’s not what Matt had hoped his brother would say. He just wanted to know what Nate was feeling, what Matt could do to fix this, any of it.

Sensing that Matt wasn’t satisfied, Nate glanced up as an image of himself as a kid - all black, shaggy hair and dark eyes - stared up at him while Charlie flickered in and out of view just beside his childhood self. He could feel static crawling along his skin, Matt's arms still wrapped around him tight, too tight, cutting off his air. Finally, Nate collected his thoughts enough to drag his gaze up to his brother and speak.

“The hallucinations came back not long ago. They're different from last time, but they're still not right. They’re like a fuzzy radio station,” Nate said the same way a soldier might give a report. “I tried not to give it away, but he probably found out. He always does.” Nate scratched at the places along his arms where the static continued to buzz beneath his skin.

Matt glanced his brother over again, wondering what it all meant. He’d dealt with Nate’s hallucinations when they were kids, but it seemed like the game was changing, becoming more complex. He just hoped they could learn the new rules quick enough to stay ahead.

Thinking that Matt was disappointed, Nate added in a bitter, self-deprecating tone, “You'd think I'd be better at hiding them by now, but I don't know what's going on with them.”

The sigil on Matt’s chest itched at the thought, and quietly, he asked, “What are you seeing?”

Once again, Nate glanced up at Charlie and the ten year-old version of himself. Both of them seemed out of focus, grainy, and Nate felt his stomach churn. He’d never told Matt the details about Charlie, who she was, what Nate thought she meant, and he certainly wasn’t going to mention that he was seeing himself as the potential victim. So, he just shook his head.

“I'm not sure. It's still too damaged to make out.” He watched Matt nod, watched the subtle emotions shift across his face, but when Matt looked up at him, Nate glanced away again. His fingers twisted at the bracelet on his wrist. “Did… did the nightmares come back?”

Matt gave a rueful smile, noting the gray bags beneath his brother’s eyes with just another note of worry among the ever-growing list. “They never left.”

That made Nate look up again, search Matt’s eyes for anything out of the ordinary. Nate’s hallucinations and nightmares always meant Afton, there was no denying that, but now it also meant that Matt hadn’t tracked him down after three months just on an impulse either. He was probably experiencing some kind of side-effects, too, like he had back in Caliente.

It also meant that Nate's “fix” with cutting Matt’s hand might not have worked after all. “The visions?”

Matt blanched a little at that, his stomach bottoming out. The migraines he'd been having since he caved and called Pam had continued to be shot through with his own visions, and instinctively, he rubbed at the scar along his collarbone that had begun to burn. He had never had the chance to tell Nate what he and Stephanie had discovered about the meaning of the sigils and what it might mean. And now... Well, Nate had enough to deal with.

He nodded and gave no further explanation.

Nate’s throat felt tight, but he plastered on a smile, as genuine as he could manage, though that wasn’t saying much. “Then we’ve got a hunt.”

Matt returned his smile, still tinged with sadness but genuine. A small weight finally lifted off his chest, because at least there was this, as long as there were hunts for them to go on, they had a reason to work together. At the smile, Nate’s chest squeezed again.

He’d missed Matt so much it hurt.

“What?” he asked, still unable to decide what was on Matthew’s mind.

Still smiling, amusement bright in his red-rimmed eyes, he replied, “John tell you anything about the hunt?”

The memory of his and John’s last conversation flashed through Nate’s mind, and the static grew sharp beneath his skin. “Just that you think you've got a lead on Afton. And something about a summer camp?” He watched Matt’s grin widen, more excitement, even if it was a little uncertain, like he was waiting to see if Nate would be excited, too. And that could only mean one thing.

“No,” Nate said, his eyes feigning lightheartedness he couldn’t make himself feel.

“Camp Wannapee, here we come!” Matt cheered and pumped his fist into the air lamely. He hoped it would get an eye-roll or a groan of brotherly annoyance, but Nate just laughed softly and shook his head, backing away a few steps before he turned back to his car.

The moment his back was turned to Matthew, the cheerful expression dropped from Nate’s face, replaced by worry, exhaustion. The static seemed to dull, but it left a numb feeling in his whole body. And Matt could see his shoulders drop, the reflection of his weary gaze in the Firebird’s window. He knew.

Everything was wrong.

* * *

Patrick-Smith Home  
Medina, OH  
May, 2000

The boys’ alarm clock went off at exactly six o’clock, blasting music from the local radio station as the sun shone in through their window, and 13-year old Matthew Patrick’s wide hazel eyes popped open excitedly. It was practically a national holiday, after all, the last day of school!

He sat up, hair wild and smile beaming, and he bounced up and down in place for a moment before looking over at his brother’s bed. Nate was curled up in a lump of bedhead and knobby elbows and knees on his new bed in the corner where video game and band posters were taped haphazardly to the walls to create something of his own space. The lava lamp still glowed on a small dresser next to the bed, casting a lime green light over Nate’s scrunched up, morning face.

Too eager to wait for Nate to wake up and start the day, Matt grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his brother. “Wake up, sleepyhead! Don’t you know what day it is?”

Matt bounced off his bed, hit the floor running, and practically skipped to his closet where he started changing from his pj’s into fresh clothes. As his head popped through the neck of his t-shirt, he heard Nate mutter something inaudible while pulling his pillow over his head.

“Nathaniel! Language!” Matt gasped dramatically with a barely suppressed giggle.

Nate pulled the pillow off his head and glared daggers at his annoying older brother before flopping onto his back and groaning in disgust, “Uuuuuuuuuugh!” Nate wasn’t a bit the morning person that Matthew was, and it drove him nuts.

Matt just continued to giggle as he danced along to the music coming from the radio, and he balled up one of Nate’s favorite t-shirts and tossed it at him. “Just get up, get dressed, and comb out that rat’s nest on your head! We're going to be late!”

With the t-shirt still covering Nate’s face, Matt sprinted from the room and down the stairs, and once he was gone, Nate grumbled and pulled the pillow over his head again.

Downstairs, Matt slid into the kitchen in socked feet and nearly crashed right into Mary, shouting, “Morning, Mom!” 

Mary was busy loading the table with a smorgasbord of scrumptious breakfast foods. Matt’s eyes lit up further at the sight of the stacks of various waffle flavors, bowls of fruit salad, and fluffy scrambled eggs.

“Whoa!” Matt gasped, and Mary laughed as she set down a pitcher of orange juice at the center of the table.

“Well, morning, Matty! Someone's in a good mood!”

Matt hopped over to his seat at the table and sat down as he began to pile waffles and fruit onto his plate. “Course, I am! This day only comes once a year!”

Mary smiled, straightening Matt’s hair with her fingers before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Behind her, Nate shuffled in, still rubbing his eyes, and he blinked in surprise when he saw the spread on the table. He glanced towards his dad who was sitting in the living room with a beer in one hand, watching the news. Then Nate scuttled to his own seat.

“Morning Dad, Mary.”

“Morning, Nate,” Mary said and giggled as she watched Nate drum his fingers hesitantly on the edge of the table as he stared at the piles of waffles in awe. “You know, pretty as my cooking is, I didn't make all this just to be stared at. Dig in.”

Wiggling a little in delight, Nate grabbed his fork and started spearing waffles, but he froze when John spoke up from the living room, “Nathan! Don’t be a pig.”

Nate flinched a little and sheepishly glanced up at Mary before putting back half of the waffles he’d taken, murmuring, “Sorry, Mary.”

“No need to apologize, dear,” Mary told him as she smiled sadly and walked over to him. Over Nate’s shoulder, Mary slipped in and shoveled more food onto his plate when John looked away again. The extra food wouldn't do the scrawny kid any harm, and it gave Mary a small satisfaction to see Nate's eyes light up at their little secret. As Nate dug in, Mary combed his unruly hair out of his eyes, curled it back behind his ears, and kissed one of his ears quickly, making Nate giggle and squirm away from her. “We always have a big celebratory breakfast for the last day of school!”

“I know that,” he said once he swallowed his first big bite of peanut butter banana waffles. “I just don’t get what the big deal is.”

“Well, I do admit there’s a little more to this celebratory breakfast…” Mary admitted with a smile, wiggling her eyebrows a little at both the boys. “Matt, guess what I got in the mail yesterday?”

Matt leaned over his plate which was already nearly half clean. His eyes all but sparkled in anticipation. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Mary shrugged with a mischievous smile tugging at her mouth. “Just your acceptance letter into Camp Wannapee this summer!”

“I got in?” Matt’s jaw dropped in surprise, his eyes widening even further if that was even possible, and Nate snorted and choked a little on his waffles. He looked like an anime girl about to explode into a transformation sequence.

Mary danced over to her purse which was sitting on the kitchen counter, and from it, she pulled out a letter and unfolded it dramatically to read to them. “They said, and I quote: ‘It would be our sincere pleasure and joy to have Matthew return to Camp Wannapee for his final year of eligibility since we missed him so much last year. Camp just isn't the same without him.’”

“I bet Xavon wrote that! He always likes using big words,” Matt said excitedly, looking from Mary to Nate, who had no idea who this Xavon person was but was mostly just amused by how doofy Matt looked all buzzing with energy.

Mary presented the letter to Matt with a small flourish and a wink. “They all wrote it. At least they all signed it.”

Matt continued to dance in his seat while Nate stared at him in amusement. “Wh-what is this?”

“Oh,” Matt gasped like he’d somehow neglected something very important, “It’s Camp Wannapee!” As if that explained anything.

Nate snorted at the name, trying to collect himself. “Oh, I - I heard that the first time.”

“Nathan, stop stammering,” John called from the den.

His shoulders and his smile dropping a little, Nate looked down and poked at his eggs. “Yes, sir.”

Mary recovered quickly and rested reassuring hands on Nate’s shoulders. “It's a summer camp a couple hours away that Matt has been going to since he was old enough.”

“And I’m thirteen this year,” Matt explained with a bit of disappointment in his tone as he slumped forward, his toes tracing circles on the floor beneath the table, “so next summer I’ll be too old.”

Nate raised both his eyebrows at Matt, pausing as he shoveled more food into his mouth. “You're excited to go camping all summer? Who actually likes going camping?”

Matt sighed and shook his head like Nate was just a poor, ignorant little kid. As he got used to being a big brother, this was becoming more and more common. “Oh, but this isn't tent-camping; it's summer camp! They've got cabins, and a lake, and a high dive, and archery, and a 20-foot rock-climbing wall - of which I am the champion - and crafts and swimming and hiking, and everything you could possibly want to do with your summer with tons of other kids who are all your age!” Matt said the whole thing in one breath and then took a big gulp of air while waving his arms around.

“I'll bet _everyone_ will be there again since it's our last year! Maybe even Aliya…”

In the kitchen, Mary tucked their lunches into their backpacks and smiled as she handed them off to the boys. “I bet _she_ will be. But we better get going. You can finish your breakfast in the van.”

“Okay!” Matt stood and, scooping another waffle onto his plate, shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders and ran for the door, shouting, “I’m going camping!”

Nate followed after him, still sticking strawberries into his mouth as he struggled to get his backpack on one shoulder and balance his plate in the other hand. Mary held the door open for Nate while he shoved his feet into his shoes, but before he went out, Nate paused and glanced at John. Rushing to his dad’s recliner, he asked, “Dad, do you think I could go to summer camp, too?”

John didn’t look away from the TV as he answered, “We go camping every summer, Nathan.” He nodded back towards the door where Mary was still standing by the door. “Now go apologize to Mary for making her late.”

“Yes, sir.” Nate dropped his head and hurried back to the door, muttering, “Sorry, Mary,” as he ducked under her arm. Mary petted his head as he passed and watched him run after Matt. Raising her head, she glared at John’s back before following the boys and letting the door slam shut behind her.


	3. There's No Place Like Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Mary is Everyone's hero on this wonderful Friday.
> 
> Xavon is face claimed as Austin Crute from Netflix's "Daybreak" (link in the chapter!)

[[Xavon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P9U41e75tE) (NSFW)]

Patrick-Smith House  
Medina, Ohio  
May, 2000

Nate’s small hands curled around the wooden banister at the top of the stairs. He sat on the landing and listened to the shouting match happening below him in the den of their home. When John had returned from a hunt that afternoon, Mary quickly sent the boys upstairs with the promise of pizza for dinner the following night if they stayed in their room for a while, but Nate had waited behind to listen.

“All I'm saying is it might be good for him! Actually, it will _definitely_ be good for him!” Mary shouted. Nate had overheard them fighting before but never for this long or this loudly, never over him.

Usually, Mary could convince John to give Nate the little freedoms that Matt enjoyed without question. First it had been sleepovers at Jason's, a weekend trip to the beach with Chris and his parents, and every now and then John might let him sleep in on Saturday instead of rising at dawn for training. Mary was Nate's champion fighter in the ring, but tonight, his dad wasn’t at all interested in letting his son go to camp, that was for sure. “Are you saying I don't know what's best for my boy?”

Nate could hear Mary scoff even from upstairs, and he shrunk back a little as she said, somewhat quieter, “It will be a chance to be among other kids his age, John! He already doesn't have any friends of his own at school! Just those boys Matt hangs out with, and if it weren't for Matt he'd have no one.”

Tucking his hands deep into his hoodie, Nate curled in on himself and chewed at the corner of his lip. He shouldn't have asked about camp. He shouldn't have started this.

And John wasn’t planning on lowering his voice anytime soon. “He doesn't need friends! He needs to be training! Matthew may not have a purpose in life, but Nathan does!”

“Oh, so being allowed to be a _child_ is wasteful to you?” Mary took a deep breath to try to calm herself. After a fight between the boys that had come to blows, Mary had taught them to count to ten in their heads when they got angry enough with someone that they wanted to hit something, and Nate wondered if she was counting now. “His ‘purpose in life’ right now should be about having fun, exploring _his_ interests, learning and growing and making memories! I am sorry you're so begrudging of having a son that you refuse to see him as anything but a soldier! But he is not a soldier, John, and it’s not fair for you to expect him to be one!”

Behind Nate, Matt crept forward to kneel beside him, and seeing him in the corner of his vision, Nate flinched a little. But Matt reached out and took hold of the sleeve of his hoodie just to reassure him that he was there, and Nate looked back down to where John and Mary’s shadows moved along the floor below.

“I did not come into this house for you to decide how I need to raise _my_ son!” John screamed, and something hit the floor hard, breaking. Nate fell back against his brother's chest at the sound, and Matt held on tight to his hoodie.

Mary didn’t back down. “Then what did you come here for? Just to have a roof over your heads while you continually obsess over Nora? And force that same life of obsession and anger and mourning onto a child, all over a woman he doesn't even remember?” Her shadow crossed over to stand in front of his, and Matt didn’t like that she was within John’s reach. “You could be happy, we could all be happy, if you’d just let her go! She wouldn’t want this for you, for either of you!" There was a pause, and Nate curled up against his brother, hiding his face. Below them, Mary's voice shook. "It would break her heart to see the man you’ve become.”

Matt winced and decided that he was done listening, and he stood, tugging on Nate’s sleeve for him to follow. But rather than getting up, Nate just raised his arms a little. Matt hooked him beneath his arms and dragged him across the carpet back to their room.

He laid Nate in the middle of their bedroom floor and shuffled back to close the door, even though they could still hear the muffled shouts from below that had reached an all-new fever pitch. Then Matt came back to his brother’s side and sat down cross-legged on the floor as Nate laid on his back and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling.

“Twenty questions,” Matt said, a little game they’d developed for situations like this.

“Whatever,” Nate muttered grumpily.

Matt leaned his chin into his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. “Do you think every language calls them ‘oranges’? I mean, naming them after the color?”

Nate tilted his head to the side a little, still looking away from Matt. “How come we don't call apples ‘reds’ or ‘greens’?”

“Why do we call the places we park ‘driveways’ and the places we drive ‘park ways’?” Matt asked as he picked at some mud dried on the side of his tennis shoe.

“You already asked that one,” Nate reminded him and poked his little finger through a hole forming in the seam of his favorite t-shirt.

Matt lowered himself down to lay beside Nate, their shoulders just lightly touching. “Well, it’s a good question.”

The shouting downstairs got louder for a moment and both boys went stiff until Nate muttered, “If dogs love swimming how come they hate baths?”

“At what age do you stop bathing before bed and start showering in the morning?” Matt asked quickly to cover the noise from below.

“How come Chris has a new Playstation? Didn't he just get a new GameBoy for Christmas?”

“Do you want to go to camp?”

Matt considered Nate carefully as he went very quiet and very still. For a moment, he thought his brother might actually answer the question.

“How come Squirtle is a water type when most turtles live on land?”

Matt propped himself up on one elbow, but Nate was avoiding his gaze, his cheeks hot and fists clenched tight. Matt sighed, asking, “Do you just feel bad that it's making Mom and John fight?”

Nate finally looked over at Matt before he sat up and crawled over to his bed. There, he curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Is it wrong to to want to go even when I know I probably shouldn’t?”

Matt sat up, too, his brow wrinkled up in confusion. “Why don’t you think you should?”

“Because…” Nate looked so small there at the foot of his bed, his hair sticking out all over the place and his head buried somewhere between his knees. “Because I always thought hunting was more important.”

“Hunting can't be more important than everything.” Matt scooted a little closer to his brother. “It's not more important than eating or sleeping, right?”

Nate scoffed lightly, and Matt decided to shift strategies a bit.

“Well, you think Pokemon is fun, right?”

Shooting his eyes up towards Matt, Nate shrugged his shoulders minutely. “Duh, who doesn’t think Pokemon is fun?”

Matt raised his hands slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I think it's fun, too. So I play it. There's nothing wrong with that." He shrugged his shoulders a little and picked more dried mud off of his tennis shoe. "Camp Wannapee is fun, so I'm excited to go, and I'm going. There's nothing wrong with that either.”

Nate stared at the carpet. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Matt going. He was different. Somehow, Matt had always been different from Nate. He had a mom, friends, clubs and hobbies. He had a life, and Nate had hunting and his dad. But Nate didn’t even like hunting, and sometimes he wasn’t so sure that his dad liked him very much either. Mary loved Matt. She made him big breakfasts and bought him video games and books and sometimes she got mad at him, but she always hugged him tight and ruffled his hair. And everything was fine.

John trained Nate. They did drills together and went on hunting trips together. Nate was still too young to do much to help, but John thought it was important to bring him anyway. Sometimes his dad would bring him souvenirs, tell him the stories of how the hunts went. He wanted Nate to learn so he could survive and maybe help people himself some day, not so he could have fun and waste time at summer camps.

Matt watched Nate's facial expression shift in thought, and when he was distracted, Matt scooted closer to him. “There's nothing wrong with you thinking it sounds fun and wanting to go.” He moved a little closer, close enough for him to reach out and grab Nate’s sleeve again. When he did, Nate looked up at him. “Besides, I promise, we'll hang out as much as we can. I'll introduce you to all my friends. I'll talk the counselors into letting you do all the top level activities with us, it'll be great. You'll see.”

Nate smiled a little because he had hunting and his dad, and maybe he had Matthew, too. “I'm going to beat your rock-climbing record.”

Matt’s jaw dropped, eyes wide in shock. “Fat chance!” He finally slid into place next to Nate, leaning back against his bed, and ruffling Nate’s hair. “I've had that record every single year! Well, every year that I've gone.”

Brushing his hair back out of his eyes, Nate glanced away again, asking quietly, “Why didn’t you go to camp last year?”

Last summer was Nate's first full summer living with the Patricks, and after a rough year in his new school, Mary had asked Matt to stay home from camp for the summer to help Nate adjust. They'd spent every day that summer together exploring and getting into trouble. Matt had been sad about missing camp, but that summer, he got to be big brother for the first time in his life. And he found out he really liked it. Figuring that Nate already felt guilty enough, though, Matt just shook his head and bumped their shoulders together. “We don’t always get what we want, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

Nate watched his brother closely as Matt got up and started digging through a box in their closet for something else to distract them. He knew why Matt had stayed home that summer, but instead of saying something, he just ran over to make sure Matt didn't get out "Candy Land" again because that was _definitely_ a girl's game.

Later that night as the boys were getting into bed, Mary came by to tuck them in. She seemed tired as she picked up a few of the books and toys lying around on the floor, putting the books back on the shelf and the toys back into the boxes lining one wall.

“Mary?” Nate called quietly from his bed.

She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “Hmm?”

He shifted beneath his covers and curled his knees up to his chest. “I don’t have to go to camp, if other things are more important.”

Still sitting up in his bed, Matt looked to Mary quickly as her smile turned sad. She crossed the room to Nate’s twin bed and sat down beside him. Mary pulled a notebook and a few colored pencils from the folds in the blanket at his feet, and smiling at his drawings, set them aside. “Imagine I could put you in a spaceship, and send you to a very far away planet, where you would have a whole summer to do whatever you wanted.”

Nate grinned a little bit. “I’d steal Chris’ PlayStation.”

“Okay,” Mary said, laughing and smoothing out the blanket that covered him, “well on this planet, there's Camp Wannapee with Matt and all his friends, and there's hunting with your father. You could do either one you wanted, and you wouldn't waste any time or have any effect on this planet here. Which would you do?”

He thought for a moment, long and hard. “I’d play on Chris’ PlayStation.”

Mary smiled, and Nate thought maybe he saw tears in the corners of her eyes. But he couldn’t be sure. He liked when he could make Mary smile, though, and he definitely didn't want to make her sad. She combed Nate’s hair from his eyes, looking at him the same way he’d seen her look at Matt a thousand times, like he was her kid and she loved him. “You're going to have a wonderful time camping. It might be scary because it's new, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try it.”

Nate pulled the blanket up close to his chin and glanced out the door like he expected John to appear there any minute. “That’s not the part that scares me.”

Nate didn’t catch the flash of anger that crossed Mary’s face then. She made sure it was gone by the time he looked back at her. “Try not to worry about that.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek as her pretty golden hair fell over one shoulder. “You should only be focused on having fun, nothing else, okay?”

He nodded. He didn’t want to make Mary sad.

When she went over to tuck Matt in, pulling the book out from under his pillow and setting it on the nightstand, he leaned up to her and whispered, “Mom? You haven't gotten Nate's acceptance in yet, have you?”

“Why would you think that?” Mary asked softly.

Matt glanced over at the bed in the corner where Nate had shut his eyes even though Matt knew he wasn’t asleep yet. “Well, if he can’t go, I’ll stay home with him,” he said softly, looking back up at Mary who smiled. Pride gleamed in her eyes.

“My two, worried boys,” she said and shook her head at him. “You let me take care of it, and I promise, you're both going to have a wonderful time camping. Just get some sleep.” Then she brushed his hair back from his forehead, gave him a kiss, and turned on the lava lamp before she got up. At the door, she turned out the lights. “Good night, boys. Sweet dreams.” Then the door slipped quietly closed behind her.

Nate opened his eyes and stared up at the lava lamp. Matt rolled over to face him, getting comfy. Finally, very quietly, Nate asked, “Is there really archery?”

His eyes almost closed, Matt smiled. “Yeah, and you’re going to hold the record. I can just feel it.”

Smiling to himself as he heard Matt’s breathing level out and become soft snoring, Nate watched the glowing blobs float through the lamp before eventually drifting off to sleep.

* * *

A little over a week later, it was time to head off for camp. The boys sat at the breakfast table, rapidly shoveling food into their mouths as Mary loaded their sleeping bags and backpacks into the minivan outside. She checked her watch, and shouted to them through the open front door, “Boys! Come on, or we're going to miss Early Bird check-in!”

“Coming!” Matt shouted around a mouthful, little bits of egg and toast spewing out. He washed his food down with the last of his orange juice, lifted the strap of his duffel bag onto his shoulder, and sprinted out the door at top speed as usual.

Sticking another piece of toast into his mouth, Nate picked up his bag and hurried after him, but John’s booming voice stopped him at the door. “Nathan.”

Nate pulled the piece of toast from his mouth and slowly turned to face his father who towered over him. John didn't seem mad, only his usual gruff self. Sometimes Nate thought that his dad didn't know how to be soft like Mary was, like that part of him was locked away somewhere that Nate couldn't get to. So John just told him, “Keep up your training while you’re gone. I don’t want you getting weak.”

It wasn't "Goodbye, have fun, I love you" but it was about as close as John ever got, and Nate knew he was plenty lucky his dad was letting him go at all or that he’d gotten accepted on such short notice. So he nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

John stared him down a moment more and then jerked his head in the direction of the door as a sign that Nate was allowed to leave. Then he turned his back and walked away. With a small sigh, Nate stuffed the piece of toast back into his mouth and ran outside before his dad changed his mind.

* * *

Camp Wannapee  
May, 2000

The drive to camp was a few hours long, and they spent most of it jamming out to the radio while Matt chatted about previous years that he’d been to camp and all the friends he couldn’t wait to see again, his head bouncing up and down as he tried to contain his copious amounts of excited energy. Mary pointed landmarks along the way, and they even stopped for a short shaved ice break at the halfway point.

But the closer they got, the more the little knot of anxiety in Nate’s stomach started to grow. This was the longest he could remember that he would be away from his dad, not to mention that all the kids there would probably already know each other. As they arrived, however, slowly rolling underneath the large “Camp Wannapee” sign, Nate’s anxiety melted away a bit as he craned his neck to see what he could of the camp. The pine forests, the hints of water glittering through the trees, all the trails leading off in different directions.

There weren’t many other vehicles in the parking lot yet, only those that were there for early check-in. A few counselors were milling around and directing people to the Office to sign in and pick up their t-shirts. After the boys hopped out and stretched their legs a little, Matt darted off towards the cabins and shouted for Nate to follow him. Watching the boys run off together with a smile, Mary told them not to go far and then made her way to the Office.

Matt led them through the cabins all the way to a small clearing overlooking the lake and all its activities, including a water slide and two diving boards which Nate eyed with obvious excitement. After all his training, he was a fish in water, and any chance to fling himself off a high place screaming and giggling and splash his brother was a pure delight. Matt noticed his little brother's wide eyes and grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Your group won't be able to go on the high-dive until you pass the diving test, but I'll sneak you on. I bet you're a better swimmer than I am.”

It seemed a little surreal, this great expanse of forest criss-crossed by trails that led to different, interesting things that Nate had never been able to try in his life and other things he knew so well - water slides to archery. Sure, he’d still rather be sitting on Chris’ couch playing video games all day long, but maybe this could be fun, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, especially with Matt there.

Finally, Nate smiled up at his brother, glad that Matt had convinced him to come along after all, and Matt ruffled his hair.

“Come on, Shaggy,” he said and nodded back towards the camp, “let’s go get our cabin assignments.”

Back among the cabins, more kids and their parents had arrived in the parking lot, but Matt picked out one counselor among the rest, a tall, dark skinned young man wearing a faded version of the orange camp shirt along with a bandana tied around his head as a headband. He was grabbing the boys’ bags from the back of Mary’s van while she was standing on the front porch of the Office chatting with another counselor with a big cardboard box full of t-shirts.

“Xavon!” Matt cheered and raced over to high-five the counselor, Nate trailing uncertainly behind him.

Xavon smiled brightly down at Matthew and set the boys' bags down on the ground to greet them. “Mat-thew! My man! Welcome back, little brother, for your last year, right?”

Matt nodded solemnly but then turned to Nate who was shifting from foot to foot and adjusting his glasses nervously. “Yeah, but I brought my little brother this time!” Matt gave Nate a little push forward, and Xavon knelt down in front of him.

Down on one knee, he was still taller than Nate, but he offered the kid a hand. And Nate shook it with a small smile. Xavon looked him up and down, still grinning. “Nate Smith. You'll be in my cabin this year, my brother. Say, I like the look of you.” He shot a finger-gun at Nate. “You've got trouble in you. I like that.”

Nate smiled, glanced over his shoulder at Matt who was beaming at him and shrugging. As he turned back to Xavon, Nate shrugged as well. “Yeah, there's a club. I try not to advertise it.”

Xavon, appearing taken aback, stood and backed away slowly with his hands raised. “Oh well, excuse me, hotshot!” He licked his finger, placed it to his rear, and made a sizzling sound while glancing back at Matt who was snickering. “Am I right?”

Matt rolled his eyes. “More than you know.” He reached over and raked Nate’s hair into his eyes, and the boys started taking playful swipes at one another before Xavon got between them.

Laughing, he knelt down in front of Nate again, turned him around, and pulled a bandana from his back pocket. He rolled it up like his was and tied it around Nate’s head, careful not to get his hair knotted up in it. Matt helped to hold some of the unruly black tufts out of the way, and between the two of them, they finally got the headband in place.

When they were done, Xavon clapped his hands onto Nate’s shoulders and spun him around again. Facing them once again, Nate looked between Matt and Xavon who were both grinning proudly at their work. They nodded to one another, swapping a look. Nate gave an anxious smile.

“What? What?”

Behind them, Mary approached after getting their paperwork and t-shirts. Matt and Xavon jumped up to their feet. “There you are! Thought you had gotten lost.” She smiled down at the headband and tried to ruffle and comb Nate’s hair into some kind of order. With the headband, at least, it wasn't hanging down in his eyes anymore.

“Me? Lost?” Matt scoffed while sticking his thumb proudly against his chest. “I’m the best navigator of my year!”

“Make that second best,” a voice piped up from behind one of the other cars, and as the boys spun around to see who it was, a pretty blonde with sharp eyes and a foreign accent like Nate had seen on TV before rounded the end of her mother’s car with a sparkling sunflower clip holding back her blond hair and several colorful, braided friendship bracelets winding up her arms.

Something about Matt changed, and Nate felt it.

“Hello, Aliya,” Mary said brightly.

Xavon, with a flourish, gave a bit of a bow. “Welcome back, Miss Aliya!”

“Hello, Mary, Xavon.” She blinked her bright green eyes at Matt who felt his knees going weak. “Hi, MatPat! Missed you last year.”

Nate blinked a few times at the nickname and glanced over at Matt, but his brother was just smiling, dumbstruck by his old crush. Looking back at Aliya, Nate could tell that the crush wasn’t all one-sided either, and while it made him chuckle a bit at the dopey look in his brother’s eyes, he also felt that anxiety start to needle at him again.

“Aliya, come get your things,” a woman - mostly likely Aliya’s mother, since she had the same golden hair and bright eyes as the young girl - called out.

Aliya blinked and glanced back towards the car. “Oh, I got to go help.” Then smiling at Matt again, she waved, “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Matt said dazedly, and Nate rolled his eyes.

But Aliya just ran off giggling to herself, and as she reached her car, she turned back to Matt, giggled once more, then disappeared. Nate frowned a little as his gaze shifted back to his brother’s lovestruck expression. Suddenly, Aliya was the only person in Matt's world, a bright, distracting sunflower. And Nate started to wonder if Matt would pay that much attention to her all summer long. He shook his head before hoisting the strap of his duffel bag back onto his shoulder.

Then Nate started off in the direction that the other kids were headed, realized that his brother wasn’t following, and went back to him as Matt still stared after Aliya. If he were a cartoon character, there would be little hearts drifting out of his eyes. “MatPat,” Nate teased and waved in his hand in front of Matt’s face. “Earth to pimpleface!” But it was no use, so Nate grabbed Matt’s bag, dumped it into his brother’s arms, and with a shove, turned him around and pushed him in the direction of the cabins.


	4. Puppy Love is Real to the Puppy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you love Pam, this one is for you!
> 
> Aliya is face claimed by the lovely Sophie Simnett, and Pokaski is Cody Kearsley, both from Netflix's "Daybreak." (Links in the chapter!)
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who recognize the kid's names! Also fun fact, Elmwood was the name of my first apartment building at school. Okay, well, it's a fact at least.

[[Aliya, Pokaski](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P9U41e75tE) (NSFW)]

Camp Wannapee  
August 2011

The old Camp Wannapee sign loomed overhead as the boys drove up to the main entrance, ivy crawling up the wooden archway. Warm sunlight lit the pine forests in a golden glow and glittered across the surface of the lake beyond the cabins that were scattered like Easter eggs beneath the pines. Several bonfire pits marked the center of the camp, already prepped for the night’s festivities as a new session of camp was just beginning.

Groups of kids with backpacks on their shoulders and fresh sunscreen on their noses, all wearing the same orange camp shirt, gathered around their counselors who were armed with nothing more than their clipboards against the prepubescent masses. Parked at the edge of the entrance area, a young handyman leaned out the window of an old truck, speaking to a counselor with sunshine golden hair. The Firebird drew their attention as it pulled into the other side of the open lot.

Nate cut the engine and got out, adjusting the bandana he wore as a headband over his short hair and tugging at the long sleeves of his Henley shirt to be sure they covered the cuts and bruises. Though, he couldn’t do anything to hide the bags beneath his eyes. Matt, on the other hand, popped out of his car looking like he was about to float right off the ground.

“Place looks exactly the same,” Nate said flatly as he looked around.

Matt took a deep breath and sighed. Every bit of golden sunlight caught in his hair, his smile beaming. He had a glow about him. “Of course it does! Why touch perfection?”

Staring emptily at the back of Matt's head and feeling his chest deflate a little more as he continued to glance furtively about their surroundings, Nate headed towards the archway at the entrance while Matt scuttled to catch up with him.

Spotting the boys as they entered, the blonde woman all but skipped over to them with her own clipboard covered in sunflower stickers. “Hi there,” she said in an understated British accent that made Matt’s eyes widen a little. “Are you two our lighting guys?”

They both stared at her in confusion, Nate as he tried to figure out exactly who she thought they were and Matt because he swore he recognized her voice. And those sunflowers.

Her bright green eyes shifted back and forth between the two of them before clarifying, “Did you… bring our new lights?”

“Aliya?” Matt asked, blinking. Nate's chest somehow managed to get even tighter.

Slowly, Aliya’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “MatPat?” She giggled and threw her arms around Matt’s neck in delight, bouncing on to her tiptoes to reach him. “Oh my God - Matthew Patrick! Look at yourself! You look amazing!”

“Oh please,” Matt gushed, waving off the compliment, “ _you_ look amazing! I mean - you could be a movie star!”

Aliya rolled her eyes and waggled her pink pen in his face. “Oh shut up, Mr. Charmer.” She turned her attention to Nate, who was just wondering if it was socially acceptable to just bolt into the woods and disappear in order to avoid a conversation, and she gave what had to be the friendliest smiles in the history of politely-friendly smiles. “Nate! You... got tall!”

“Finally grew into the attitude,” Nate answered with muted humor. _Always your bad attitude,_ he thought and shrugged a little before she hugged him, too, with thankfully decidedly less enthusiasm.

Then, poking at his biceps, Aliya leaned back again. “Oh! I would say so!” She sighed and tucked the pen behind her ear, turning back to Matt. “So, I’m guessing you guys don’t have any lights.”

“Lights?” Matt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Aliya lifted the name tag that she was wearing on a lanyard around her neck. “Aliya Connorsman, Director of Developmental Technologies here at camp.”

Nate blinked and glanced sideways to Matt to see if he knew what all that meant. “Sounds like a lab job.”

“Sometimes I feel like it, but no." She gestured around to the camp. "My job is to give the place a face lift, make it a little more exciting. Got to compete with all those ‘vidja games’ these days.” Her voice trailed into a giggle when Matt's jaw dropped at the absolutely heretical idea of ever changing a single detail of his beloved camp. “But what about you? What brings you here?”

The boys shared a few quick glances. Matt opened his mouth to answer but floundered, so Nate jumped in quickly. “Oh, we were back in town, actually, seeing the old sites and stuff, and thought we'd swing by.”

“We were also hoping to help out, too, if we could,” Matt added before Aliya could reply. “Maybe stick around for awhile?”

Nate frowned at his brother - that wasn’t exactly the plan - but when Matt noticed, Nate dropped the frown quickly. Matt was in charge on this one, and Nate wasn't there to question orders.

Aliya lit up like Christmas at the idea, though. “Well that's fantastic! You know Camp Wannapee never turns away our own, no matter how many years it's been. Let me go talk to the director and see what I can find for you!” She rolled her eyes. “We’re always short-handed here!”

"You mean people aren't falling over each other to come back here? Shocking," Nate replied under his breath, his tone about as bright as a garish LED.

Aliya, however, didn't seem to hear him. She headed off in the direction of the Offices but turned back, smiling to herself. “MatPat. Wow.” Then giggling, she shook her head and set off to dodge kids.

Nate wrapped his arms around himself, biting down on his cheek, and when Matt raised both eyebrows at him, Nate sighed, “I just-” They hadn't planned on staying. They were there to get answers and go, not play summer camp with Matt's old flame and a bunch of snotty kids. "You want us to work here?" Nate asked instead.

Matt held up his hands and tried to appear innocent even though he was still beaming with a somewhat mischievous light. This was what he had hoped for all along it seemed. “So, what's the harm? Besides, it'll be easier to, you know, figure out what we're dealing with.”

Nate turned away from him, his expression becoming flat as his eyes scanned the groups of kids and felt his stomach twist painfully. Matt leaned his head to try to catch Nate’s attention again. “Hey, what’s the issue?”

“Forget it.”

“I thought you liked camping,” Matt said, pouting playfully as his hair flopped to the other side, his head tilted sideways to follow Nate's evasive gaze.

Nate stared into the trees, voice quiet but with an edge, “Oh sure, bugs and dirt and long days of physical activity, what's not to love?” His sarcasm could’ve cut, it was so sharp. “Not like I do this all the time already or anything.” Two weeks back a hunt with his dad had landed them miles deep into a forest on the side of a mountain hunting some fox demon. Away from everything that was comforting and familiar, Nate's hallucinations had started without warning, and he'd nearly gotten his face chewed off by the fox thing before John saved him.

But yeah, camping was great, tons of fun.

Stunned, Matt watched Nate storm off down the path to the cabins, and after a moment, he followed after him.

They wandered around the camp together, taking it all in as kids ran around in packs, their bright orange shirts making Nate think back. There was a scrawny kid with a tuft of golden hair that could’ve been Matthew, and another one a few yards away standing alone, just watching from behind dark bangs. Nate wondered if things ever really changed - or people, for that matter.

Then he blinked and a flickering, distorted version of his childhood self stood in place of the other boy he had spotted, where the shadows of the trees were darkest. Nate could feel the imprint of pine needles in his palms, a hand clamped tight on the back of his neck, and he shivered even in the deep summer heat. Suddenly he couldn’t tell the real kid apart from the vision anymore. And that meant...

A branch snapped as Matt wandered out ahead of him, pulling Nate back into the moment, and he wiped his hands on his jeans to brush away the sensation. He jogged to catch up with his brother. “We're not here to question ‘the one that got away,’ are we?”

“No, no, Afton never let any of his victims get away,” Matt whispered back as he craned his neck to get a look at the lake through the pines. “He was too good for that.”

“Careful,” Nate warned him, the bitter tone returning to his voice, “keep that talk up and you'll start to sound like you admire the guy.”

Matt paused and looked back at him. Maybe it was meant to be one of Nate’s usual jokes, but Matt didn’t think it was very funny. “He was a monster, Nate, who hurt and tortured children. I feel rotten inside every time I think about him.” He watched Nate drop his head, take a step back as if to avoid any further confrontation, and feeling a pang of guilt, Matt chose to head farther down the trail that meandered in the general direction of the lake.

Nate trailed a few steps behind him, just out of swinging distance.

“So, if it's not witnesses or victims, what has us back to Wannapee after ten years?” Nate snorted a little to himself as he said the name aloud. “Still funny.”

The trees parted near the end of the trail, and while it continued to lead down to the sand, the boys paused at a clearing in front of a five-foot drop-off that overlooked the lake. Racks of colorful canoes rested to one side of a small utility shed full of life jackets, and some of the campers had already wandered into the water, splashing one another and leaping from the diving board. Behind them, counselors quickly hosed down the waterslide so that it would be ready when activities officially began.

Matt watched the shifting light over the water and sighed. He just breathed easier here. “You remember when I told you what Steph found? How people had swiped pieces of old Freddy's restaurants and were selling them around the country?” Though that all seemed miles away now.

Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “And some hunks of junk were from Burbank, I remember. Springtrap from Idaho was one of those.” His heart hammered in his chest at the memory of that thing snapping shut with Ethan inside as Matt… Nate shook his head. “You saying there's one of them all the way out here? In Ohio?”

Matt rubbed at the scar on his palm. “Something’s cooking. That’s for sure.”

Nate scoffed and gestured around. “It just happens to be at this place?” But of course it was. Of course a few more of their decent childhood memories would end up twisted by good ole Billy Afton. "Seems a little suspicious, don't you think?"

But Matt only shrugged, his gaze still distant, and Nate continued to frown at him. Something was bugging him, something that Matt was hiding from him. Not that Nate wasn’t used to not knowing the full picture, especially lately. But what John had said just before they left still rang in Nate's ears: Matt was his babysitter. Nate wasn't there to ask questions or demand answers, just to kill the bad thing.

“There you are!” Aliya called from behind them and emerged from the trees as the boys turned to her. “I thought you’d run off and gotten lost!”

“Gotten lost?” Matt pretended to be offended. “You know I was the best navigator in our whole year.”

“ _Second_ best, thank you,” Aliya squinted at him, a playful smile on her lips, and Nate had to wonder if she’d spotted Matt’s wedding ring by now or not. “Anyway, I talked to the director, and these,” she lifted up two bundles that were tied up in string, “are for you. Managed to find you both something!”

If Matt swelled any bigger, he was going to burst. “Really! That’s fantastic! Eh, Nate?”

His younger brother gave an obviously fake smile, baring his teeth more than anything else, and topped it off with a thumbs-up that had all the sincerity of someone flipping the bird. “You betcha!”

Aliya tried not to notice and kept her own smile plastered on. She presented the first bundle to Matt, a folded up shirt and his very own clipboard. “This is for you. You'll be one of our counselors over Elmwood, you remember.”

Matt nodded and took the bundle. “Twelve year-olds, right?”

“Yeah, that was the year you missed, wasn’t it? Still haven’t told me why yet, by the way.” Aliya wiggled her eyebrows as if this were the pinnacle of hot gossip.

Nate frowned to himself, knowing the reason and wondering why it was such a big secret.

Then, with considerably less enthusiasm, Aliya tossed Nate his bundle. “And Nate, here. You’re… mess.”

He blinked as he caught the bundle against his chest. “I know, but _hey_.”

With a smile, Matt clarified. “It means you’re a cook.”

Nate poked at his bundle and realized that on top of the trademark orange shirt, he was also the proud owner of a slightly used, navy blue apron. He looked up at Aliya who shrugged at him apologetically, but Nate figured it was only fair. Looking down at the apron, he muttered, “Well, I did live and work at a bar for a hot minute there. Hope these kids have their own liquor allowances.” He looked up to see Matt staring at him in horror, but Nate ignored him and said to Aliya instead, “I'm joking. The point is I know my way around a kitchen.”

Aliya’s brighter-than-sunshine smile faltered a little as she sensed the tension between the two brothers. “Uh, great! If you guys will follow me to the office, I can get you settled in.”

“Lead on,” Matt said with a nod, and the two of them began hiking back in the direction of the cabins.

Nate moved to follow them but paused before heading back into the trees to look out over the lake again. He didn't belong in a place like this, hadn't before and still didn't now, and he honestly wondered if he should’ve stayed with John after all.

* * *

The boys followed Aliya back to the Offices, which was another cabin-like structure no bigger than a trailer house with a front porch and ceiling fans that spun lazily, pushing around the hot summer air, and rocking chairs that were spread out beneath the awning. On one of those rocking chairs, with a Starbucks cup in hand, sat a young woman with short brown hair and bright purple fingernails.

Aliya gasped as she saw her. “Pam!”

Sure enough, Pam knocked her sunglasses down her nose an inch and rose to meet Aliya. She was wearing a red flannel over a black tanktop, ripped skinny jeans, and brown hiking boots, and as she hugged Aliya, she glanced over the other woman’s shoulder to Matthew who was all but blowing steam out of his ears.

“Oh my God!” Aliya squealed in delight. “What are you doing here?”

Pam pulled back from the hug, smiling wide. “I came to see you, obviously!” But again, she glanced back at Matt, and he bristled.

Aliya, in her excitement, didn’t seem to notice the not-so-subtle glances. “Are you serious? All the way in the middle of nowhere?”

Instead of answering the question, Pam finally turned to the boys and lit up even more as if she were seeing them for the first time. “Matthew Patrick? Of all the little devils to find!” She hopped down the steps of the porch to meet them and punched Matt in the arm as he steadily glared at her.

Nate frowned back and forth between the two of them, at a loss for how Matt may know this young woman as well.

Then Pam turned on him, still grinning as if she knew him, too. “And you must be Nate, the little brother! I've heard so much about you!”

“Really?” Nate looked over at Matt who was still only staring daggers at Pam and offering absolutely no helpful cues whatsoever. He turned back to Pam and said flatly, “Thanks, but I have no idea who you are.”

Pam gasped in apparent surprise. “What, Matty here never told you about me? We go way back! Months at least!” She reached over and slung an arm around Matt’s neck, tugging him down to her level as she did. “I'm his new best friend!”

Nate’s frown only deepened as he watched Matt seethe and duck out from under Pam’s arm. “Sorry, Pamela, but we’ve got _work_ to do here,” he hissed. Matt pushed past her to follow Aliya inside, and Nate dutifully followed a few steps behind him without asking questions. He was just starting to wonder if there was anything that his brother was fully honest with him about.

Undeterred, Pam turned after them, a confident smile on her lips. “Oh, are you working here? That’s great!” She raised an eyebrow as Matt froze. “Maybe we’ll be bunk buddies!”

Matt thought his blood pressure might actually go through the roof.

Aliya spun around towards Pam, and her eyes widened again. But it didn’t look like excitement exactly, Nate thought. No, she looked almost worried. Only she played it off with a confused smile. “You’re - are you working here, too?”

“Mh-hm!” Pam said excitedly. “For the rest of the summer!”

Nate cut his eyes towards Aliya. “Problem?”

“No, none,” she stammered quickly and avoided Nate’s gaze. “I just wasn’t told about it, that’s all.”

Then one of the doors to the Office opened up, and a large, bald man in an apron leaned out. “Hey, Aliya! You said I had a new cook?”

Breaking away from the rest of the group before anyone else could reply, Nate raised his hand a little. “Oh, thank God." A means of escape. "That would be me. Sorry, kind of hit a... traffic jam.”

The man looked Nate over, unsure he liked what he saw - not that Nate wasn't used to that either - but he eventually offered Nate a hand. “Name’s Stock.” He jerked his head in the direction of the path that led past the cabins to the other main buildings of the camp. “Head to the mess hall to meet the rest of the crew and be sure to get the grand tour before lunch rush starts.”

Finally an order he could follow that didn’t involve awkward silences and weighted glares. Nate nodded his head. “Yes, sir.” He gave a grateful salute and hurried off.

Stock glared at Aliya who simply smiled and shrugged her shoulders, but Stock rolled his eyes without a verbal complaint at least and started down the path after Nate. Aliya folded her hands nervously as she spun back to face Matt and Pam, sensing the obvious tension between the two of them as well. Seemed they were in for a little camp drama and the session had hardly begun. “Constantly growing, aren’t we?” She swept a hand towards the Office entrance. “Shall we?”

Pushing between them, she headed for the door, but Matt snagged Pam’s arm before she could follow and pulled her back. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he growled, “What are you-?”

“Hey, I gave you this hunt in the first place!” Pam interrupted him, her voice an equally quiet but angered hiss. She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Don't think you can strong arm me out of the way, hunter. I've scratched your back; it's time for you to scratch mine. Got it?”

“I don't have a problem doing that. That's why we're here at all.” Matt glanced around to make sure they weren’t being watched. “I have a problem with you not telling me you were coming.”

Pam’s eyes widened a bit as she jabbed one perfect, purple nail against Matt’s chest. “I'm sorry, I missed the part where I needed your permission.”

Aliya reappeared in the doorway, clutching her clipboard close and smiling a little too wide. “Hey, the camp session has just begun! Let’s not start fighting just yet!” They both turned to face her like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. But Aliya kept up her perfect smile. “To the Office, then, and I'll get you sorted out.”

Matt grit his teeth in an attempt at a smile. “Sorry, we’re coming.”

“He’s coming,” Pam said as she backed towards the parking lot, leaving Matt on the steps of the porch. “I'll be an Office bee, so I'm already sorted. But you two run off and have fun. Just don't tell the missus!” She smiled sweetly, wiggling her fingers at Matt as she headed towards the group of counselors pointing parents towards the check-in points.

Matt took a deep breath, plodded up the rest of the steps after Aliya, and followed her to the door. Aliya studied his face with interest and frowned teasingly at him. “Missus? Got a little lady back home, MatPat?”

“Yeah!” Matt said, brightening up a little. Pam or no Pam he could talk about his wife all day long. “Stephanie. We met at school.” He nodded, and it did lift his spirits to think of her instead of Pamela Horton, the proverbial thorn in his side. He grinned at Aliya. “I actually think you two would get along.”

Smiling and wiggling her eyebrows almost flirtatiously, Aliya giggled, “You always were Mr. Popular.” She spun around, golden hair flying out in a wave, and headed inside.

Matt paused a moment, let out a deep, heavy sigh, and shook his head. Some things never changed.

At the kitchens, Nate followed Stock through a quick rundown of the day-to-day operations for preparing each meal and what Nate’s responsibilities would be. Around them, the kitchen was already bustling in order to prepare that day’s lunch for the kids who would be arriving at the mess hall in an hour, excited and hungry. Bursting with nervous energy that only grew the more he tried to listen to Stock explain everything and take in so much information all with a rush of noise and movement in the background, Nate drummed his fingers and hands on everything as they passed, countertops, mixers, refrigerators.

He nearly ran Stock over when the burly man halted and turned back to Nate in agitation. “Don’t touch anything until you’ve washed your hands.”

“Sorry. Hate to contaminate your immaculate set-up here,” Nate snapped, raising his hands defensively.

Stock frowned at him in concern. He clearly didn’t want to deal with Nate’s attitude, and to be fair, Nate didn’t either.

He sighed, genuinely annoyed with himself, and shook his head. “I’m - I’m sorry, it was a long drive to get here. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Nodding warily, Stock led Nate towards one of the kitchen’s exits, a pair of double doors that opened into the mess hall itself, and as Stock pushed through one side, Nate tried to walk through the other only to crash into one of the handymen. It knocked the man’s toolbox from his hands, sending tools clattering and sliding across the floor in all directions.

“Ah - geez,” Nate hissed as pain shot up his side from where he’d run into the heavy box, but seeing the mess he'd caused, he immediately dropped to his knees to try to pick up the tools, “Sorry!”

The other guy yanked his baseball cap off his head in anger, glaring down at Nate. “Hey! Watch we're you're going, lame-brain!”

Nate stared up in wide-eyed fear as the handyman’s appearance shifted quickly from a young man in a worker’s uniform with short, brown curls, to an image of John, snarling down at Nate, to a younger version of the handyman as a kid, still snarling and wearing a stained, orange camp shirt. Then as the hallucination faded again, the young man’s expression changed to shock as he slowly recognized Nate too.

“Smith?”

With a nervous smile, Nate swallowed down his panic and gave a small wave. “Hey, Pokaski…”

* * *

The last cabin at the end of the row, a bit ramshackle with patches of moss growing on the roof, was called Elmwood. It was rarely used, only when there were excess campers that couldn't be fit into the other main cabins. Aliya led Matt to the front door and knocked on it a few times before entering. The cabin was big enough to hold eight kids and a counselor, but only three kids lazed around the room, hanging from their bunks or bouncing around between them.

Aliya again put on her brightest smile as she swept in like a golden hurricane. “Hello, Elmwood! I know originally this cabin was going to be combined with another because we didn't have enough counselors, but guess what! We found one!” She stepped to the side as the kids sat up to stare at the two adults, and Aliya spread her arms out wide to gesture to Matt, standing in the doorway looking very sheepish and tired. “This is Matthew, and like me he came here when he was your age! Isn't that great?”

Matt looked them over, and they were quite the trio. One of them, a skinny boy with shaggy, black hair had been leaning over the edge of his bottom bunk and lobbing crumpled up paper balls at the trashcan. He wore a collection of buttons and pins on his camp shirt, and a backpack slumped on the bed next to him covered in even more colorful pins. Another child, a bigger girl with long brown hair and bangs cut just above her eyes with spike bracelets on her wrists that seemed a little too big for her, leapt from bunk to bunk like a precarious game of hopscotch. The third was a small boy with a floppy, green fishing hat that kept falling down in his eyes as he ran around between the bunks as if he might catch the girl when she fell.

He wove his way out from the bunks, taking off his hat and pulling down the pink bandana he wore around his neck so that it no longer covered the lower half of his face. “Hello, I'm Raleigh.” He offered a hand, and Matt shook it with a surprised smile. The other kids came closer as Raleigh turned to introduce them. “That's Suzie,” the kid said, pointing to the girl who huffed, “and that's Kris,” he added as the other kid got up from his bunk. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Matthew.”

“You too, Raleigh,” Matt said with a nod. "And you can call me Matt."

Adjusting his hat again on his head, Raleigh took an awkward step back and nearly tripped over his own feet, but the other boy caught him and lifted him back to his feet as Suzie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Matt. “I liked it better when we didn't have a counselor. Then all the bossy adults would leave us alone.”

Aliya leaned down a bit so that she was at Suzie’s eye-level. “You three already went through two counselors, I don't have many more to offer you.” It sounded almost like a warning, and Matt wasn’t sure whether it was meant for the kids or for him.

Suzie gave a perfectly diabolical grin, her eyes shadowed by her bangs as she tilted her head forward. “Maybe breaking those poor saps was the most fun I’ve had since I got dragged all the way out here in the first place.”

Aliya’s smile wavered a bit, and she backed slowly out of the cabin. “Right! Um, we’ll be right back.” She snagged Matt’s arm and pulled him out after her.

Outside, Matt blinked and couldn’t help a slight chuckle. “They seem like fun.”

“I wish I didn't have you give you this group,” Aliya growled while pressing the tips of her fingers against her temples. “You've never even been a counselor before, and they're…” She sighed and drummed her fingers against her clipboard, her green eyes practically dripping with an apology. “If you want to switch, I understand.”

“Switch?” Matt scoffed and put up his hands. “I barely even met the kids. I'm not running out on them already.” Through the blinds of the front window, Matt caught sight of the trio watching them. He didn’t doubt that they could most likely hear the conversation, and Matt really didn’t want to let them down.

“You say that now,” Aliya assured him as she let her arms drop to her sides. “Just - if they're too much to handle, I understand, I promise I do. Keep that in mind.”

In the distance, an airhorn sounded, and Matt turned on Aliya quickly, his whole face lighting up. “Campfire squares?”

Laughing a little at his excitement, Aliya raised her eyebrows. “Campfire squares!”

“Yes!” Matt pumped one arm into the air and then rubbed his hands together. “Oh, I hope I remember all the songs!”

“Well, some of them are hard to forget,” she said with an eye-roll. Those songs really did have a way of sticking under your skin, but Matt’s energy was contagious. And she began to chant, “Campfire, campfire, whoo-rah-rah...”

And Matt, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet from how giddy he was, chanted along with her, “Square time, square time, sing along!” Aliya watched Matt bounce around the front porch of the cabin, down the steps, and back up them again, practically a kid himself even after all those years.

She shook her head at him. “If anyone deserves to work here, it’s you…” As Matt grinned at her, Aliya began to blush, and she spun on her heel to head back in the direction of the center of camp. “I’d, uh, better go make sure everyone is rounded up. See you there.” Waving over her shoulder, she hurried off.

Bursting with excitement, Matt turned back and knocked on the door to the cabin before swinging it open wide. “Ooooh, Elmwood? You guys ready for your first Campfire squares?”

Inside, the three kids stared up at him with blank, unimpressed expressions. They were not going to make this easy on him.


	5. Youth is Wasted on the Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the last chapter didn't make you melt, this one will, I guarantee it.

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

The whole camp gathered around the large bonfire in the central area among the cabins, sitting around on wooden benches and logs as the counselors, daily schedule, and camp rules were introduced. At the edge of the central area of camp Matt noticed a few new additions: huge metal light poles fixed in the spaces between cabins. Bugs swarmed around the ones that were lit. But not all of the lights were finished, which must have been what Aliya was questioning them about when they arrived. Matt frowned up at them. They didn't exactly fit among the rest of the camp, which was all decidedly old-school.

While the campers and their counselors sat towards the front, nearest to the campfire, some seats towards the back were reserved for the rest of the staff, and from where Nate sat with the mess hall staffers, he caught sight of Matt and his cabin and headed towards them. Ducking his head, he slipped onto the wooden bench beside Matt who, up until that point, seemed fully engrossed in listening to the camp director explain the rotation for afternoon activities.

When Nate sat down, Matt jumped a little in surprise. “Hey!”

“Sup,” Nate said with a little more ease in his tone, a little less of a weight on his shoulders.

Matt smiled at him. “You’re in a better mood,” he observed with a spark of hope in his chest.

Nate rubbed his face and adjusted the headband he wore. “Sure. Got a nap, stole some fruit from the kitchen.” Slightly less sleep deprived and with some healthier food in his belly than he'd had in a while, Nate did have to admit that he was feeling a little better, and now, with the cool night air easing away the sweaty summer day, fireflies dancing just beyond the trees, and the promise of another full night of sleep if he was lucky, a hint of optimism worked its way into his tired thoughts. Nate glanced past Matt to the three kids sitting on the bench next to him. “This your cabin?”

Suzie sneered up at Nate. “Yeah, we are. And what’re you, lost? The losers sit over there,” she grumbled, pointing away from them.

Nate raised both eyebrows at her and slowly looked back to Matt who was still smiling. Deciding to change the subject, Nate muttered, “So, guess who I found in the kitchen…”

“Ratatouille?” Matt asked, his gaze wandering back to the camp director.

“Gesundheit,” Nate said, rolling his eyes. “No, it was Cole-”

“Shush!” Raleigh leaned around Suzie and held his finger to his lips as he squinted up at the brothers. “I’m trying to listen,” he whispered. Nate blinked at him, a little insulted, but the kid just smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Raleigh, by the way.”

Nate shook his hand, taken aback by this small child. “Um, hi.”

Still watching the camp director, Matt leaned his head towards Nate a bit. “So, who’d you find?”

“Cole Pokaski,” Nate whispered so that the little one in the green hat wouldn’t get upset again.

Matt thought for a moment, trying to remember where he’d heard that name before. Then it dawned on him. Nate had mentioned that name back when they went to camp together one summer. “Oh, that’s great!” He glanced over at his brother who didn’t seem to think it was so great. “What? At least you’ll have someone around that you know!”

“‘Know’?” Nate asked. Were Matt's rose-colored glasses that heavily tinted? He really didn't remember what had happened the summer they'd come to camp together? "Dude tried to kill me last time we were here!"

“Shhh!” Raleigh hissed, and Nate felt himself starting to lose his temper. And he seriously didn’t want to snap on a kid that couldn’t weigh seventy pounds soaking wet.

“He did _not_ try to kill you,” Matt snorted and gave Nate a sideways look.

Near the campfire, the director finally stepped aside and another counselor with an acoustic guitar took their place, announcing that it was finally time to sing some camp songs. The majority of the kids cheered along with their counselors, and Matt joined in, clapping excitedly.

Of course, Nate thought and glanced away. “Not that you cared back then either.” As everyone else stood to join in the singing, Nate caught sight of Matt’s third camper who didn’t rise with everyone else. The kid was looking at him through his bushy bangs. “What,” Nate snapped, “are you going to insult me, too?”

But Kris just shrank in on himself a little and stood up next to Matt, practically hidden even behind Matt's lanky frame. Feeling even worse for snapping at the kid, Nate glanced up at his brother again. But Matt was fully engrossed in singing along, a warm smile on his face, without a care in the world, and Nate felt like he was seriously going to break something. All this chipper, cheery music, his brother lost in “the good ole days,” and Cole Pokaski breathing down his neck every moment - not to mention he felt lost without his dad - Nate’s chest started to tighten up fast.

He shook his head. “Good talk, big brother, really,” he muttered to himself. Matt was too distracted to hear him anyway. The three kids looked over as he slipped off the bench, and Nate gave them a wave before he turned and left.

At the edge of the clearing, his shoulder leaning against one of the unfinished light poles, Pokaski watched Nate as he stalked away from the campfire, and Nate, noticing him, glared back. But he was too tired and too close to having a meltdown to deal with that particular problem.

Struggling to breathe right, twisting the friendship bracelet so tight on his wrist that it bit into his skin, Nate headed back to the staff cabin to disappear before anyone could see him break down.

* * *

The next morning, bright and very early, an airhorn sounded in the staff cabin, and Nate woke vaguely, still groggy, to the sound as it grew closer. He couldn’t quite recall where he was for a moment and opened his eyes to look around the small room within the larger cabin. Then, Stock burst into the room, effectively waking Nate - who instinctively grabbed for his hunting knife beneath his pillow - and the rest of the mess hall workers.

“Rise and shine, Messes! These kids are going to be tired and grumpy, so it's pancakes for breakfast! Let's get a move on!”

Nate released the weapon slowly, forcing each finger to relax from around the handle. He figured stabbing his coworkers was definitely going to be frowned upon. As the other staffers around him groaned and dragged themselves to their feet, Nate flopped over onto his back.

He really hated camping.

But once he’d changed clothes, splashed some water in his face, and drank some coffee, working in the kitchen wasn’t so bad. From his time spent in Ro’s charge at the Roadhouse and generally spending life on the road, he’d picked up a few cooking skills here and there. In other words, he could scramble eggs with the best of them. Stock, though somewhat surprised, seemed genuinely pleased with Nate and eventually stopped hovering over his shoulder like he kept expecting Nate to light something on fire. Not that Nate blamed him.

As the morning went on, Nate settled into an easy rhythm as he worked, and some of the other workers coaxed the ancient boom box into tuning in to the local radio station. Drumming two spatulas lightly on the stove top, Nate felt almost happy until he noticed Pokaski slip in. The breaker box for the mess hall was near Nate’s corner of the kitchen, and as Pokaski checked each breaker, he shot glares in Nate’s direction.

Nate flicked the ladle he used for pouring pancakes in a mocking salute and splattered the mix all over Pokaski’s tool box. While Pokaski, the few times that he had to grab a new fuse, tried to bump Nate and make him drop the eggs he was holding or spill the pancake mix. By the time they were cleaning up after breakfast and Pokaski was going around changing light bulbs, he and Nate had begun a full fledged war, finding little ways to annoy one another and trip each other up.

If anyone else noticed, they didn't say anything.

Once Pokaski had cleared out and the last of the cleaning was done, Nate had some free time. So he threw together a little breakfast sandwich, tossed his apron to hang on a peg in the supply closet, and headed out the door into the fresh summer air. Beneath the dense layer of trees, the air was somewhat cooler, and in the distance, he could hear kids laughing and shouting to one another, splashing in the lake and running across the pine needle softened ground after a soccer ball.

Struck with memories from his one summer spent there, Nate steered himself in the direction of the furthest corner of camp where the archery range was set up with all manner of makeshift, homemade targets for the kids to try their hand at shooting for. Sure enough, he spotted Matt among the counselors that were teaching the kids to shoot, and he made his way over to him, watching out for any stray arrows.

Still munching on his sandwich, Nate sidled up to Matt and his campers as they waited for their turn to shoot. “Morning.”

“Oh hey,” Matt said, his stomach growling as he glanced at Nate’s sandwich while raising an eyebrow in envy. “One of the perks of being a cook, I guess.” His kid-sized breakfast serving of two tiny pancakes, a handful of scrambled eggs, and a single sausage hadn’t exactly cut it when he spent all day chasing his kids around.

Nate wiggled his eyebrows in satisfaction as he took another bite and talked around his food, “Already impressed my boss. Course breakfast is the one thing I can do.”

Raleigh pushed his big green hat back, revealing a tuft of his fluffy, white blond hair. “Are you a cook?”

Swallowing the bite of food, Nate nodded. “Indeed I am, little man.”

“I liked breakfast!” Raleigh announced excitedly, his eyes sparkling a little, and Nate was insulted by how adorable he was.

“If you want to call it that,” Suzie grumbled from where she stood a few feet removed from the rest of them. “I'm pretty sure my cat eats better tasting stuff, and she's feral.”

Nate poked out his bottom lip and sounded genuinely hurt as he asked, “Really?”

Suzie turned her head to glare at Nate over her shoulder. “It tasted like feet.”

Nate snapped his fingers and frowned down at the remainder of his breakfast sandwich. “Guess I’ll have to tweak my recipe. I was going for farts…”

That got a chuckle from Matt, and Nate thought that maybe there was just a hint of a smile in Suzie’s glare before she turned away again. Then Nate noticed Kris quietly watching the archery coach explain proper form, and Nate followed his gaze, feeling almost wistful at the sight. It’d been so long since he’d had the chance to practice himself since most hunts required a little more kick than what a bow could provide.

“I miss archery,” he whispered, not really meaning to say it out loud.

Matt noticed a little flour on Nate’s shoulder from where Pokaski had made him spill some and dusted it off as he asked, “You don’t practice?”

Nate rolled his eyes at his brother's fussing but, other than that, kept his envious gaze trained on the archery coach. “This may come as a shock to you, but here in the 21st century an old fashioned bow and arrow isn't exactly an essential piece of gear.”

“What happened to being ‘prepared for anything’?” Matt asked with a little edge in his voice, remembering the long hours that John had forced Nate to train in every weapon they could get their hands on when Nate was younger.

Rather than answering, Nate shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and dusted off his fingers on his pants before tugging Matt a few feet away but still close enough for them to keep an eye on the kids. Once he swallowed, Nate said, under his breath, “Hey, so I get that you're reliving your glory days here, but we're kind of on a time crunch, man. We still don't know what brought us here, at least I don't, and for all I know, you haven't had a single vision.”

Keeping his eyes on the kids, Suzie specifically since she liked to wander off on her own to find that kid Lance in the Maple cabin and make trouble, Matt whispered back, “Well, what about your hallucinations?”

“Yeah, not very helpful,” Nate muttered with the bitterness from the day before creeping back into his voice. Any time he started to think too hard about his hallucinations, that familiar sensation of static beneath his skin would return along with the flickering, younger version of himself. Charlie's eyes watched him from every reflective surface in the kitchen, but Nate had learned to tune out little things like that long ago. So, as usual, his screwed up head wasn't exactly helpful. “I think they're all screwed with my own memories of this place. I'm not getting anything clear enough to get a victim from.”

“I know, I know.” Matt could hear and see Nate getting annoyed. The hallucinations always wore heavily on his nerves, not to mention that Nate still hadn’t really been the same since Matt had gotten him back from John. When they had the time, Matt could bribe Nate into resting with some pizza or something, and they could talk, get some things off both their chests. And maybe Nate would finally feel safe enough to let Matt know what was going on inside his head. But for now, Matt had to focus on what was right in front of him. “I'll double check with Steph later to see what we're looking for.”

“Wait, you don’t even know what we're here for?” Nate snapped and then went silent as another cabin of kids brushed past them to get into line. Once they were out of earshot again, Nate grabbed Matt’s arm to turn his brother to look him in the eye. “I thought Stephanie was tracking was all of this stuff!”

“She is!” Matt said quickly and threw his hands up between himself and Nate. “She just hasn’t narrowed it down yet.”

Nate’s grip on Matt’s arm tightened even as his brother tried to pull away. “Then what the hell are we doing here? And how much junk from a haunted pizzeria can show up in a campsite on the other side of the country?” When Nate’s hold on Matt finally made his brother wince, Nate unclenched his fingers as he suddenly realized what he was doing. He glanced away, shame burning hot in his face and neck.

Matt rubbed at the sore place on his arm, pretty sure that it would bruise, but he could hear the archery coach calling for his cabin somewhere behind them. “Look, I'll find out, okay? Just hang tight." Annoyance crept into Matt's tone as he added, "Not sure why you're so anxious to get this over with. It's not like you're heading anywhere after.”

Nate’s eyes snapped back up to his brother then, taken aback, but Matt was already heading back to the kids as they stepped to the front of the line. He and the archery coach apparently recognized each other, and Matt smiled bright and chipper as he shook the coach’s hand and introduced his campers. Matt knew everybody, and everyone knew him. Liked him. Thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Like he couldn't do a single thing wrong. As usual, Matt was perfect.

And right then, he didn’t have time for Nate, so biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, Nate waved it off and headed back up the hill to camp, specifically to the parking lot and the Firebird.

Grumbling about how much he hated bugs and early mornings and stupid, perfect, older brothers, Nate pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the Firebird, sliding into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut behind him. His eyes stung for a moment, but Nate quickly crammed those emotions down deep, deep in his chest. The smell of old leather and gasoline flooded his nose and calmed his nerves. He leaned his head back, just soaking in the familiar surroundings.

This was still his space, at least, even if his brother was busy being World’s Best Camp Counselor.

Once Nate felt a little more like himself again, he reached over and punched the glove box, and it popped open obediently. But he winced when he found it cleaned out, only containing a few roadmaps and the registration for the Firebird. He’d forgotten that John had rearranged everything - even threatened to take Nate’s keys if he ever let his car get that dirty again - so Nate got out and went around to the trunk where he unlocked it and pulled open the hidden compartment.

All his weapons and supplies were newly cleaned and reorganized, too, all neat and orderly and so out of place that Nate couldn’t find a thing. He dug through smaller compartments and underneath a few changes of clothes until he finally found the EMF reader he’d been looking for.

When Nate switched it on, the device was totally silent, and he sighed, knocking it against the heel of his hand to see if that would do anything. “What, you’re giving me the silent treatment too now?”

He snagged some headphones from among his things, plugged them into the device, and headed back into camp listening for anything. As he did, a bunch of kids rushed past him, their little faces all lit up with excitement and their hair damp from a recent swim in the lake. Nate watched them run inside their cabin and felt his stomach twist painfully.

If Afton, or some part of him, or whatever, was anywhere near this place, there would be plenty of kids' souls to harvest, and Nate didn’t want to think what that would mean if they didn’t find a lead soon.

Meanwhile, Cole Pokaski watched Nate from beside one of the light poles, his eyes trailing back to the Firebird as Nate disappeared into a copse of trees.

* * *

Back at the archery range, Matt watched as the coach, a guy named Josh he’d known from his days at camp, let an arrow fly, and it hit one of the farther targets in the bulls-eye. Matt, more than a little impressed, clapped a bit as Raleigh joined in, eyes sparkling. Kris eventually clapped a bit, too, but Suzie made a show of rolling her eyes, puffing out her chest, and laughing sarcastically.

“Oh please, you think that’s hard?”

“Suzie-” Matt started, but she just brushed past him to the cart where equipment was all set up. She seized a bow, clumsily notched an arrow, and started to raise it as if to fire before her hand slipped. The arrow fell uselessly to the ground, but the bow twanged loudly and snapped Suzie in the forehead.

Matt gasped and ran to her side as Suzie shoved the bow at the instructor and covered her forehead with her hands. “Suzie, are you okay?” he asked, trying to catch of glimpse of where the bow had hit her. But the young girl just stomped away a few feet. Matt caught up to her and knelt down in front of her, taking her shoulders in his hands. “Hey, hey, Suzie, are you alright?”

“What do you care? Get off me!” She tried to shove him back but kept one hand covering her forehead.

Matt pulled his hands back quickly and said softer, so the others wouldn’t hear, “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Can I look at your head at least? Make sure it's okay?”

He could tell that she was probably more embarrassed than anything else. Her face burned bright red, what parts of it he could see, and she glared at him. “I told you it was fine.”

By that time, the other two had wandered closer to check on their friend, and Raleigh, twisting the brim of his green fishing hat in his hands, whispered, “Suzie, why don’t you just let him-”

“Shut up, pipsqueak!” she snapped at him, and Raleigh yelped before running back a few feet and hiding behind Kris, who stood there as calmly as ever. But Suzie’s outburst started to draw the attention of some of the other counselors, including Aliya, and Matt felt a nervous energy bubble in his chest.

“Suzie, cut it out,” he told her sternly, but she just continued to stare angrily at him, stomping her foot.

“Make me!”

Matt sighed and gathered his patience before telling her quietly, “You got me, I can't make you show me your forehead. But I can make you sit in the nurse's office for the rest of the day.” That got her attention.

Her jaw dropped. “The nurse's?! Why, just for a scratch?!”

Matt shrugged his shoulders coolly and glanced away like it didn’t matter. “Well, if you won't let me look at it, I don't know how bad it is. Someone has to...”

Suzie’s voice got a little smaller as she muttered, “I said I was fine!” But now she didn’t sound so sure, and she certainly didn’t want to miss out on going to the lake later that day.

“But it’s my job to take care of you, kiddo, you know that,” Matt reminded her and looked back at her, catching the exasperated expression in her dark eyes. He smiled. “So, are you going to let me look, or will the nurse have to?”

She hardened her glare once more, and the hand at her side turned into a tight fist. Matt almost wondered if she was just going to pound him into the dirt before finally she relented and, sighing, nodded her head. Matt eased a bit closer. “I’m just going to have a look, alright?”

When Suzie didn’t stop him, Matt reached up and moved her hand aside and brushed her dark, stringy bangs back from her face. He didn’t see anything more than a small, red welt above her right eyebrow that would most likely go away on its own without so much as a bruise, and inwardly, he sighed with relief.

Sitting back on his heels again, Matt clicked his tongue and shook his head. Suzie frowned at him. “I told you it was fine... It's fine, right?”

Matt winced a little. “I might have some bad news for you.”

Suzie blinked her eyes as they widened. “Bad news?”

Raleigh rushed over again, tugging Kris along with him. “What is it? Is she okay?” Kris leaned forward as if to inspect the wound for himself, but he made no comment.

Matt just sighed solemnly and put a hand on Suzie’s shoulder. “I’m afraid the whole head is ruined. We will just have to get you a new one.” He shrugged as Kris smirked to himself. “I don't see any way around it. We'll have to operate immediately.”

Raleigh gasped loudly and covered his mouth with the pink bandana around his neck while Suzie continued to blink at Matt and slowly worked out the joke. Matt winked at her as Raleigh came closer.

“Suzie - I'm so sorry! We can't operate here! It's - it's so dirty!”

Staring at Matt, Suzie slowly turned and patted Raleigh on top of his fluffy white hair. “Well, Ralsei, it's been real. Can't say I'll miss you too much, though.”

As Raleigh finally got a look at the small bump on Suzie’s head, he frowned and looked between her and Matt. His face wrinkled up before he pointed to Matthew. “I think you’re tricking me.”

Matt gasped dramatically, the corners of his mouth threatening to turn upwards into a smile, and placed a hand over his heart. He glanced at Suzie again. “Me? Your counselor? Of all the - how dare you! Maybe I should take your head instead!” He reached his hands towards Raleigh who’s eyes widened in fright as he stumbled back into Kris.

Suzie rubbed her hands together and narrowed her eyes at Raleigh. “Maybe we can switch 'em!”

He gasped, “No! My hat!” and crammed the hat down over his downy curls.

“Gimme that!” Suzie grabbed for the hat as Raleigh scrambled behind Kris to get away from her. They eventually ended up chasing each other in circles around Kris who just sighed, crossed his arms over his chest, and face-palmed.

Laughing at them, Matt stood as Aliya walked over to him. “Well, mark me down as impressed. Foot enter mouth,” she said with a smile. Matt chuckled and mostly brushed it off, still grinning after the kids. They weren’t so bad, after all, the little boogers. But Aliya just watched him closely. “When did you get so good with kids?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was always good with kids, even when I was younger.”

Aliya scoffed at the answer, thinking it was more of Matt needing to be the best at everything, and she watched as Suzie managed to lift Kris up onto her shoulders, his arms still crossed. And she stomped around with him while Raleigh chased after them, having several heart attacks as Kris’ weight swayed from side to side.

“You must’ve had a lot of practice,” Aliya commented, and Matt glanced at her, catching the knowing look in her eyes.

He nodded, wondering just how much of their last summer at camp she remembered. But she was right, after all. Matt had plenty of practice taking care of kids, and so far, he’d done nothing but brush off his first - Nate - like he couldn’t care less. Annoyed with himself, Matt swore he’d find Nate later and apologize, whatever it took to make up for ignoring him once again.

Watching his campers, though, he realized again the similarities between Kris and Nate, thinking of the kid he knew with scraped knees and messy black hair, and he wished, more than a little, that they could have some of those days back again.


	6. Not All Who Wander Are Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Super Fun Chapter in which everything is perfectly fine and everyone is perfectly happy and there is absolutely no secrets that are kept from anyone whatsoever.

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

At Campfire Squares that night, Matt watched in quiet amusement as his kids, even Suzie, tried their best to join in on the camp songs. Raleigh swished his hands through the air as if directing them, and while Matt couldn't hear Kris, he could at least see the young boy's lips moving which was rare enough in and of itself. Matt had to admit he was proud of his little motley crew as he sat on their bench, tuning out the songs to watch the fireflies blink in and out of sight in the trees beyond the center of camp. In fact, he was so zoned out that he didn’t notice Pam slip onto the bench next to him until she leaned in and said, “Howdy, Matty.”

He gasped and flinched away, his heart hammering loudly in his chest, before turning and glaring at her. “Jeez. What is it with you and giving me heart attacks?”

She batted her eyelashes at him sweetly. “Well, it's not like I'm doing it on purpose.” Winking, she added, “Completely.”

Matt rolled his eyes. Glancing back to his kids for a moment to make sure they couldn’t hear him, he muttered, “What are we doing here, Pam? Your dossier wasn't exactly a page turner. Especially since the only concrete thing it had was a location.”

Pam propped her feet up on the bench in front of them, sighing as if he should already know the answer by now. “We're looking for Afton, Matt. Why else would we be here?” Matt set his jaw and felt his skin go cold at the mention of Afton’s name, especially coming from Pam.

“Wondering how I knew about that?” Pam asked with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of her head. “I told you when we first met that we wanted essentially the same thing, Matthew. You want Afton dead, and I want to know why he isn't.”

Matt gripped the edges of the bench. “No one said he isn’t.”

Pam smiled then, a little twinkle in her eye that could just be from the firelight. “If you're going to lie to me, at least try to make it a good one.”

Thankful for his grip on the bench to keep him from falling over, or worse, strangling Pam right then and there, Matt took a deep breath. Between the smell of smoke from the fire and what Pam was insinuating, Matt thought he was going to puke. “What makes you think he, or any of it, has some connection to this place? Steph has been pouring over bought and sold items from Freddy's, and none of them are here. Or even close.”

Shrugging, Pam looked away again, in the direction of the Offices. “I have my reasons.”

Matt simmered. “That’s comforting.”

“Hey, finding things is what I do,” she reminded him, sounding almost earnest, though Matt wasn’t entirely sure she was capable of it. “Sharing... isn't.”

Sarcastically, Matt replied under his breath, “Really? I'll keep that in mind next time you ask for a favor.”

“I know he's here, okay?” Pam snapped, a little louder than necessary, and one of the campers turned to look at her. She just smiled at them and waved before they turned away again. Dropping the smile, she sighed. “I just do. Somehow, someway, he's going to try to hurt someone at this camp, and we have to stop it.”

Their gazes collectively turned towards the activities going on near the campfire, and they settled into silence for a while. Suddenly the camp songs were not half as comforting, they seemed eerie and out of place in the dark woods where a monster lurked. As much as Matt wanted to enjoy this, being there in his favorite place, to let go of all the worries and fears and trauma that had been building up and just be happy for once, they were there for a reason. He wanted to drop the conversation with Pam there, let her crawl back into whatever dark hole she came out of to annoy him, but something else kept nagging at Matt.

Finally, he glanced back to her. “How do you know Aliya?”

“Old friend.” Then, her gaze shifting back to him, Pam gave a tired smile at his surprised expression. “Yes, I have them. You shouldn't be letting that distract you.”

Matt looked away again quickly. “Oh, that's the least of my concerns right now, trust me.” He brushed his fingers through his hair and squeezed his hands together to keep his fingers from twitching. “If Afton is here, if whatever happened in Idaho is going to happen again, to these kids, your past love affairs are not my concern. I'm just wondering if, you know…” He regarded her again, guessing and second-guessing and coming up empty.

He stared into the fire instead. “Forget it.”

“Matt!”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Nate approaching them, but when he turned back to Pam, she was already gone. Annoyed, Matt got up to meet Nate half-way as his brother stopped to stare down at the EMF reader in his hand. Doing a quick scan to see if anyone was watching, Matt pulled Nate away from the kids.

“EMF?” he asked and rubbed at his right temple as his migraine returned. “When did you dig that out?”

“After breakfast.” Nate didn’t look up from the screen as he spoke, gesturing vaguely back in the direction that he came from. “I've been going over this whole site all day. Missed work, but what are they going to do, fire me?” He looked up at Matt through his eyelashes, blinking. “Imagine my heartbreak.”

Matt scowled as pain stabbed through the right side of his brain. “You find anything, punk?”

“With this? In the middle of the woods?” Nate scoffed and pulled the headphones from his ears. “Shockingly, no. Least not until now.” He waved the EMF reader a little higher, turning in a circle as he stared up at it. Matt leaned closer in an attempt to see the reading, but Nate lowered the EMF and looked up at the light trees just beyond it. “Those are new.”

“Yeah, they weren’t here last time we were.” Matt rubbed the back of his neck where the pain hard started to creep down the back of his skull, remembering that he wanted to apologize to Nate, and he opened his mouth to do so when Nate shook his head.

“No, I mean _new_ new. Look at the welding, it's still clean. And the cables haven't even fully settled yet.” Nate pointed out the places that he was talking about, and Matt followed him before staring at his brother in surprise. Nate shrugged. “Dude, what kind of steel framing do you think is inside animatronics?”

Something inside Matt jolted, and he winced. It made sense that maybe not every item they were searching for would be as identifiable as a rotting yellow rabbit walking around and swallowing people whole. Matt nodded and looked back at the light poles again. Several of them were still dark, and still more weren’t fully operational. “They aren't even finished yet. Look, those over there don't have any lights at all.”

Nate switched off the EMF reader and tucked it into his hoodie pocket. “Well, the new wiring explains why the reader started singing. You know how many electronics are in this camp?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he hadn’t been woken up so early. “Because I've probably hunted them all down.”

“I bet.” Matt nodded, and his gaze shifted back to his brother who looked exhausted again. “Hey…” Nate glanced up at him, Matt smiling nervously. “I'm sorry for brushing you off earlier. I know I don't seem like my head is in the game, and maybe it wasn't. But the thought of anything happening to these kids while we're here to stop it…”

Matt shook his head, his eyes wandering back to where his campers were sitting together. He’d do just about anything to keep them safe, but they weren’t the only kids he was worried about. He bumped his shoulder with Nate’s who had quickly looked away again. “Anyway, if you need help with anything, let me know and I'll see what I can do.”

Nate nodded. He didn't want to admit that having Matt on his side again took a weight off his shoulders. Those months spent with John, every new lesson chipping a little more of him away, Nate wasn't sure if he could handle his brother drifting off on him again. He needed to know he had a partner he could rely on. “Well, a clue as to what we're looking for would be mighty fine.”

“Honestly? I have no idea. Stephanie can't find any kind of online transaction that would tell us what from Freddy's is here.” He started rubbing both his temples then. He’d been going nonstop all day long, going with the kids from one activity to the next with little to no breaks at all. Not to mention he’d been on the look-out for something - anything that would make sense for Afton to use the same way he’d used the Golden Bonnie suit.

His head ached so bad he could feel his pulse behind his eyes.

Nate sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Well, that's just great. Back to trying to find a pine needle in a forest.”

The singing finally ended, and the campers settled back into their seats for a campfire story. Tonight was Aliya’s turn, and if Matt remembered correctly, she told the spookiest stories ever, which meant that he was probably going to have a tough time getting Raleigh to sleep that night. The poor kiddo was so easily scared. But then Matt turned back to Nate after a moment, getting an idea. “Hey, why don’t you talk to Pam? She'll help.”

Frowning at the pain visible in Matt's eyes, Nate whispered, “Yeah, who is she, by the way?”

“She’s… helped me before,” Matt said, unsure just how much he was ready to share with Nate at the moment. He still wasn’t ready to admit that he’d fed some random potion to Jonathan that he’d gotten from a perfect stranger. Especially since that perfect stranger was Pamela Horton, and he kind of hated her.

Nate squinted at his brother and wondered if whatever headache he was fending off was going to split his skull open and cram some more visions in like Caliente. “You hesitated.”

“I just don't know if I fully trust her yet. She wants to help us, but she's never really said why.” Matt shook his head and looked away again, a flicker of guilt in his eyes before the firelight washed it away, and Nate got the feeling that it wasn’t just Pam that Matt didn’t trust as his big brother sighed and glanced back at him. “So watch yourself.”

His jaw twinging, Nate just nodded. He didn’t feel like poking the sleeping bear or the nerdy older brother. Together, they listened to the end of Aliya’s story - something about a guy escaping from a mental hospital and murdering people, only for some reason he had a hook for a hand. Nate guessed they missed that part. As Aliya finished, clutching a flashlight between her hands as it shone up onto her face, one of the other counselors, a burly guy, jumped out of the woods with a tinfoil hook in hand, howling and waving his weapon around like he was the murderer.

As the kids screamed, Nate felt his heart drop into his stomach as the sound echoed in his head long after the screaming dissolved into laughter, only getting louder and louder. He shuddered and spun away for a moment, hands curling and uncurling as he barely resisted the urge to clamp them over his ears. He vaguely thought he heard Matt call his name over the ringing and quaking of his own breath.

As the campers dispersed, Matt’s three kids found him in the crowd and raced over. Matt saw them half a second too late and tried to catch them before they crowded his brother too much.

Regardless, Raleigh bounced right up to Nate, smiling brightly. “Hello, again!”

“You been busy playing in the kitchen?” Suzie asked him, and Nate flinched before he turned back to them, a little lost and dazed.

“Uh, nope.” He swallowed down his fear to plaster on an easy smile and a wink, ignoring the way Matt was staring at him. “Played hookie all day instead and went swimming.”

It always bothered Matt how easily Nate could hide behind a smile and a sarcastic remark, like he was never sure exactly what Nate was really feeling.

“Well, that explains why the food was actually edible,” Suzie said, raising an eyebrow like she’d caught just a little of Nate’s uneasiness. But Nate just smirked at her as Raleigh tugged on Matt’s hand.

“Mr. Matt? What are we doing until light's out?”

Matt grinned and stood with his arms akimbo like some kind of superhero, and Nate had to admit, the way those kids were looking at him, he could’ve been one. “Well, we've got free time. Any suggestions?”

Suzie crossed her arms over her chest, her go-to pose, Nate was beginning to realize. “I want to get lost in the woods and fight a bear.”

Nate nodded. “Nice.” And Matt shot him a glare. Right, he thought, don’t tempt the kids into getting lost and fighting wildlife, got it.

Still massaging the pain in his head as it slowly ebbed, Matt looked over at his quiet kiddo. “Kris?”

But Kris, as usual, just shrugged his shoulders.

Raleigh bounced up and down, his hat flopping so much that it threatened to fall off his head. “I'd like to go to the Handmade tent!”

“It’s called Arts and Crafts,” Suzie teased and tried once again to snag his hat off his head.

“Yes, that’s the one,” Raleigh said, giving Suzie a playful glare as he grabbed both sides of his hat and pulled it down around his face. He looked up at Matt then. “May we? It's the one place we haven't been!”

Suzie rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair as she growled in annoyance. “Ugh! I’d rather watch paint dry!”

“Which is something you can do at the Handmade tent.” Nate shrugged as they all looked to him. “So I've heard.”

“See! Even he’s never been there,” Suzie said as if that alone was reason enough for them not to go, but it made Raleigh look so sad that Nate almost felt bad for the fluffy little kid.

He reached down and booped Raleigh’s nose. “Hey, don’t take my word for it. I'm just a loser. And a asshole.”

Matt glared at him quickly, and Nate realized what he had said just a little too late.

“I mean, uh, jerk. I'm gonna... go somewhere else. Find that bear and give it a piece of my mind.” Nate gave Matt a semi-apologetic, semi-mischievous grin and quickly headed for one of the trails.

Behind him, Suzie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Please let me come! You have to! You can't leave me here with them!”

Nate spun around, shooting her a finger gun as he continued to walk away backwards. “Actually that's exactly what I'm doing. See yah, nerds.”

Seeing Nate walk off on his own again, Matt couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that settled into the pit of his stomach, but there wasn’t much that he could do. They needed to figure out what was going on at the camp, if anything. And on top of that, he had three kids to look after. His fourth one would just have to manage on his own.

He seemed pretty good at that, sometimes.

* * *

A full moon shone over the lake, and as night fell, it was surprisingly calming. Crickets chirping and frogs croaking somewhere in the shadows, Nate followed the water’s edge to an old tree with branches hanging out over the lake in places. A rope swing hung from one thicker branch, wrapped up around another, and Nate recognized it with a smile. The low branches made for great climbing. He reached up to wrap an arm around one of them, but stopped when pain shot through his side.

“Khh-” He fell back a step, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to get his head to stop spinning, one hand clutching at the pain. Then once the sharp burn had faded a bit, Nate reached down and lifted his shirt.

Fresh cuts and bruises mottled his skin, the worst of which was a five-inch gash trailing up the right side of his ribs, stitched together and now bleeding fresh in a few places, but it didn’t seem like he’d broken any of the stitches. Good thing, too. He wasn’t sure what was worse, getting nearly dissected by a poltergeist or trying not to vomit as his dad stitched him up.

He lowered his shirt back into place, gripping his ribs tight as he sighed sadly and patted the tree with his other hand. Slowly, he traced his way back up the hill until he noticed something that he hadn’t before. Running along the path was a trail of freshly displaced dirt leading off into the underbrush, looking like a mole trail if the mole was the size of a terrier. Even under the light of the full moon it was tough to see, but Nate followed the new trail anyway, careful not to trip on any roots.

Pulling out the EMF reader and putting his headphones in again, Nate walked along the odd trail all the way to the edge of the campground where he spotted a ramshackle shed, barely holding up beneath the weight of its own roof. If someone was going to commit a murder somewhere near this camp, this was the place for it. Nate shivered just looking at it.

He wandered closer, sweeping the EMF reader in front of him as he did. Moss crept up the sagging walls of the shack. A shiny new padlock hung from the rusted latch on the door. Nate flicked it with a low hum. Then he tried to peek inside the clouded windows, but flimsy curtains hung on the other side, obscuring the shed’s contents. As he moved around the structure, he came across a wooden pole with an electrical box attached to it, and the EMF reader lit up with a screech.

Tearing the headphones from his ears, Nate inspected the box. When he did, something else caught his eye. A wind blew overhead, tossing the tops of the trees so that the moonlight shone down onto the rest of the clearing that the shed sat in. More of the freshly turned dirt ran in trails away from the shack, and nearby, there was some heavy-duty digging equipment chained up along with the remains of old pipes and some gas tanks, too.

“Weird,” Nate muttered, but with nothing more to find, he decided that it was about time he headed back.

He dropped the EMF reader back in the Firebird - certainly didn’t want to explain that to anyone, but as he headed back from the parking lot and past the Office, he noticed that there was still a light on. But everyone who worked in the Office should be gone by then, so Nate slipped in through the back door.

* * *

The whole building was mostly one big rectangle with three small offices to the side of the main area where a reception desk was piled high with registration papers, a cork board behind it covered in hand-drawn pictures by some of the kids. To the other side of the reception area was a fourth office, and that was where the light came from.

Nate stood in the door, watching as Pamela Horton pilfered through filing cabinets and other loose papers. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. Then without warning, shouted at the top of his lungs, “Camp Squares, Camp Squares, whoo-rah-rah!”

Pam screamed and nearly tossed the papers in her hands everywhere. She glared at Nate like she wanted to decapitate him - and he didn’t doubt she could do it, too - but Nate just grinned at her and waved.

“Hi!”

“Are you trying to scare me to death?” Pam screeched, shaking the papers at him.

Nate’s grin turned into a full-on mischievous smirk. “Did it work?”

“You wish,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning back to the filing cabinet as Nate snapped his fingers loudly in disappointment. “And be quiet,” Pam hissed. “You want to wake the entire camp?”

“Oh please.” Nate dropped into one of the office chairs and propped his feet up on the desk. “It’s barely dark. Still dark enough to see any rogue office lights, though.” He fired a finger gun at her, clicking his tongue. “Just so ya know.”

Pam rolled her eyes again. She thought she liked this brother even less than the nerdy one. “Well, luckily for you, I’m clerical, so I’m actually supposed to be here.”

Nate shrugged. “And I’m a bard. Chaotic Neutral.” Pam turned and blinked at him in confusion as Nate continued, “Nice to meet you. Who are you again?”

Slamming the drawer of the file cabinet closed, Pam huffed and turned back to Nate. “Pamela Horton.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know your brother.”

“Yeah, he told me that,” Nate said, skeptical that they both seemed so tight-lipped about what brought them together in the first place. It was obvious that they weren’t friends, after all. Nate narrowed his eyes at her. “He also told me not to trust you, but that you were here to help. Least you seem to think you are.”

“I don’t _think_ anything,” Pam snapped at him, and Nate snorted, tapping his fingers on the arms of the office chair. If Matt’s attitude towards Pam was cold and abrasive, his brother’s was downright obnoxious. “I _am_ here to help, meatball. You guys have an Afton situation, and I’m here to take care of it, too. To _help_ take care of it.”

Nate cocked his jaw, nodded his head, and looked around, everywhere but making eye-contact with Pam.

“Is there a problem with that?” Pam asked and leaned her hands onto the desk.

“No, no problem. Just the matter of...” Nate tilted his head to the side, and shouted, “I don’t know who you are!”

“Shh!” Pam looked out the window behind them but saw no movement. “I just told you!” She was already about to blow her top. She didn’t need someone else walking in on her investigation.

“Oh, Pamela, Pamela…” Nate hopped up from the chair, started poking around the office for anything interesting, and snagged some of the candy from the bowl on the desk. “Names are cheap.”

Pam opened one of the drawers in the desk and started sifting through the files in there. “And your brother’s word?”

Popping a butterscotch in his mouth, Nate scoffed. “Sometimes cheaper. I wouldn't invest anything in that stock market.” He held out a piece of hard candy towards her. Pam wrinkled her nose, and Nate shrugged, putting it in his mouth instead.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Funny, after the way that Matt begged her for help finding his brother, she figured they were all but joined at the hip.

Nate opened his mouth to answer her but instead frowned and shook a finger at her. “Hey, no, we weren’t talking about me. We were talking about you and your interest in a dead witch.” Deciding that there was nothing in the office worthy of his interest besides the bowl of candy, he dropped back into the desk chair again. If he could hide behind some jokes and a smile with his brother, he could sure as hell hide behind a bad attitude with Pam. “So, please, tell me about your mother.”

Pam felt her eyelid twitch. “Except Afton’s not dead.” One file in particular among the rest caught her eye, and she flipped through a few pages before her gaze flickered back to Nate. “And we both know that he was more than a witch.”

Nate smirked up at her again, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward in the desk chair. “See, it’s little things like that that make me like you a lot less.”

“Well, good to see you at least share your brother’s distrust for strangers,” she groaned and snapped the folder closed before tucking it away in the bag she carried with her.

Shrugging, Nate pulled another candy from the bowl and unwrapped it. “Comes with the territory.”

Hunters, she thought, and Pam sat down on the edge of the desk with a sigh. “What can I say to make you trust me?” Nate shot her a cold look in reply. “At least enough for you to let me help?”

Nate drummed his fingers on the chair arms again as he genuinely considered that for a moment. What would it take for him to trust her? It didn’t exactly come easy as of late. “Ever heard of 20 Questions?”

Another eyebrow raise, Pam was good at them. “Like the game?”

Nate nodded, and Pam sighed deeply.

“Go ahead…”

He tilted his head to the side and set the bowl of candy aside. “How do you know Matt?”

Glancing away from Nate, Pam shrugged her shoulders. “I found him when he needed help. I find things, it's kind of what I do, and Matt needed a cure for vampirism.” She said “a cure for vampirism” so easily, like it was something she could get on a trip to the grocery, but it made Nate’s eyes bug out slightly.

“That was you?”

She smirked, obviously more than a little proud of herself. “Same person who tracked you and daddy down.”

That made Nate pause. His stomach gave a sharp twist, and he reached down to his wrist, tugging at the braided bracelet there as he looked away. His chest felt increasingly tight. “Then tell me this: when did Matt ask you to find me?”

Pam sobered a little. If Matt had come to her for a favor, it meant he was desperate, and it wasn’t hard to imagine why. “A couple days ago. It didn't take me long, and Matt hit the road as soon as I gave him the address.”

A few days, just a few days, he thought with stinging eyes and nodded, uncurling his finger from around the bracelet on his wrist. “Do you know why?”

She shifted her weight and straightened her shoulders uncomfortably. Pam studied him, tried to figure out what was going on behind those guarded eyes. Honestly, there was no telling. “I don't know, but if I were to assume, it would be because of Afton.”

Nate nodded. Of course. It was basically the same thing that Matt had told him, too. He was having migraines and nightmares again, so that most likely meant that something Afton-related was stirring. For that, he needed Nate, so he'd hunted him down and convinced John to let them hunt together. Simple as that. But somehow, hearing it confirmed by Pam only made Nate feel worse. Sighing, he swept his hand over his face and spread his hands out wide. “So, what do you know?”

It didn’t take much to sense the roiling emotions coming off Nate in waves, and that explained at least a little of the reason why Matt was even more short-tempered than usual. There was definitely something up between the two of them. But Pam was a little surprised that Nate seemed so quick to believe her. “Just like that? Or are we still playing your little game?”

“So far you’ve been more honest with me than my brother has,” Nate admitted quietly. It figured that between his brother, his dad, and a perfect stranger, the perfect stranger was the one who trusted him the most. Nate wasn’t sure if it was a testament to how screwed up his family was or how screwed up _he_ was. Maybe both.

Pam clicked her nails on top of the desk. “I don't want to get between you two. You're the dynamic duo; you need each other.”

Scoffing again, Nate shook his head and rubbed at one of the nasty bruises on his arm beneath the fabric of his flannel. Matt didn't need him, and maybe his dad didn't either. Maybe no one did. They certainly didn't act like it, trading him back and forth like a tool instead of a person. Pam watched him with quiet interest.

“I know Matt's being influenced by Afton somehow.” That got him to look up at her - his dark glare cutting up towards her as sharp as a blade. Pam kept her voice measured. “I don't know to what extent or how he's doing it, but he is.”

“Actually, he’s not anymore. I took care of that.” There was a tick to tell when Nate was lying, even to himself, and Pam noticed it - the way he braced himself like he was ready to take a blow or deliver one, whichever seemed more appropriate. “But when he was, it was through this uh, cursed item from the restaurant in Burbank, the one that Afton piddled around in for awhile before he bit it. The first time.”

Nate shifted in the chair as he remembered seeing that sigil burned into the inside of the Golden Bonnie suit, one of the same sigils he’d seen Matt draw a hundred times, the ones that haunted his brother’s dreams. “An animatronic got shipped out to Idaho and possessed some poor unfortunate soul into kidnapping Afton's next victim, and when Matt got too close he kinda... went dark side.”

Pam bit her lip. She didn’t like the sound of any of this. “How dark side?”

“Think ‘Luke, I killed your mother’ dark side,” he said and swept a hand through his hair, flinching when he found it too short. He always forgot, but it was his choice to let his dad cut it, he reminded himself. His choice, after days of John making comments about how long it was. “But like I said, I took care of it. I destroyed the object, broke the spell, and cut Matt on some iron.” He pulled his hunting knife from the sheath tucked into the back of his jeans and presented it like evidence.

“You cut him?” Pam asked, exasperated by the idea. These brothers really were insane.

Nate tucked the knife away again, shrugging. “It's what I did to the suit, and it seemed to work for that. There was a... sigil carved into it, and I hit that with the iron knife and, _poof_. Matt's been clean since then.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his legs as he stared bitterly at the floor. “I assume, anyway. I haven't exactly been around to find out.”

Still watching him carefully, Pam nodded and decided that these boys might just have more problems than she did at that point - which was saying something. “You mentioned a sigil? Do you remember what kind?”

Nate shook his head and rubbed his neck wearily. This conversation was exhausting. He’d already been walking all over the camp all day long, and now he was ready for a long night’s sleep more than ever. “I just remember there were a lot of them, and they had Matt freaked out for awhile. He also said they were alchemy and black magic mix, some kind of ‘original spell, do not steal.’ And there was something about circles?”

Lost in thought, her hand held against her chin, Pam nodded.

Nate glanced up at her again. “What do you know about that?”

“What you've told me,” she said, moving her hands behind her back to lean on, “and that he's here, and that he still has Matt.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Nate snapped, hands gripping his knees tight as he braced himself. “I took care of that.”

Pam took a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes wandering over Nate as if to appraise him. If nothing else, she admired his determination even if it was flawed. “Actually, you didn't. Have you not been feeling it?”

Nate raised both eyebrows at her then. He wasn’t sure what she expected of him, but he clearly was missing something. “Oblivious as I may be about most things, I think I'd know if someone was messing with my brother.”

Frowning, Pam popped her lips. “Okay…” Maybe that determination was something closer to willful ignorance, but she didn’t have time to argue about that now. “Well, he's here, and he's getting stronger. If there's an item here from Freddy's that has this sigil on it, we need to find it.”

“I already swept the campgrounds,” Nate sighed. “It's clean. There's nothing, no rogue golden rabbits, no balloon making freaks, no ‘Number 1 Crates,’ nada.” Not so much as a party hat out of place. If there really was something from Freddy’s here, it was subtle enough to evade even him.

“You said that Afton can also influence people?” Pam asked as she tried to rack her brain for who at the camp could be Afton’s latest target.

Nate got up again, pacing, because he might be tired, but more than that, he was antsy the more that he thought about their last little tryst with Afton. “In Idaho it was a teacher. Got the poor guy so strung up he was practically groveling at Matt's feet. Called him ‘Mr. Afton’ over and over and made it sound like Afton was talking directly to him, giving him orders, feeding him the spells and stuff. Like DIY Murders.”

That particular memory, the sickening feeling in his chest as he’d watched his brother melt away to reveal William Afton smiling underneath, those things he’d said to Nate in the motel before, the way he was going to kill Ethan… Nate shuddered, static crawling under his skin again. Pam couldn’t be right about Afton still being around. Nate would know. He would’ve spotted it.

Right?

But if he'd learned anything lately, it was that three months was enough time for anything to change. Or anyone.

“So if we can't find the object, we find the poor sap it's influencing, and hopefully stop them before they hurt someone,” Pam said, either missing the haunted look in Nate’s eyes or not caring. Nate figured it was probably the latter.

He nodded, though, twisting at the bracelet again. “By the way, do you know anything about an old power shed out past the grounds? I'm not saying it's definitely a Murder Shack, but…”

“No, I haven't heard anything. I can try to look into it.” Pam tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

Nate shrugged wearily and quit pacing. “I don't know. The EMF reader went crazy when I got close, but it was probably all the, you know, power.” He rubbed at the places he could feel the static in his skin, and his face went pale.

But Pam seemed distracted by what he had just said, asking, “Wait, you've been using an EMF reader to find the cursed object?”

“Unless you got some kind of magical dowsing rod, I don't have many other options,” he snapped. Too exhausted to care anymore, Nate didn’t notice the look on her face change from confusion to surprise.

Pam blinked and suddenly a few dots connected in her brain. He didn’t _know_ , and that made things very interesting. She was just beginning to wonder what that meant for her, what she could do with that little tidbit of information, when she noticed Nate’s breathing become more labored. He reached up to cradle his side where she noticed little stains of blood seeping through his orange shirt. He stared, transfixed, at one corner of the room.

“You okay?” she asked and hopped down off the desk.

Nate’s eyes didn’t move from the corner. The image there flickered wildly between himself as a kid to other children he’d seen around the camp that day, changing so quickly he could hardly recognize one before it shifted to another, and the more it changed, the louder the sound of the static grew. Blood poured from their eyes, thick and so black it was faintly blue, and their mouths hung open as if to cry out for help. But he couldn't hear their voices over the static, the grating, awful, static. Faintly, outside of himself, he could hear Pam calling his name. Then all of a sudden, echoing in his mind and crashing through the illusion, he heard her.

_“Nate!”_

He blinked between the corner and Pam. It was like her voice had come from inside his head. Panting a little, Nate shook himself and brushed a hand over his too-short hair. “I'm peachy. You - you keep digging around here, I'm going to go check on Matt, _not_ that there's anything wrong with him.” He strode towards the door then, still clutching his right side.

“Be careful,” Pam called after him, and he paused, his hand leaned heavily on the doorframe.

Muttering, “It's nothing I haven't handled before. I'll be fine,” he left the room without turning back.

Back outside under the full moon, Nate wandered to the counselors’ cabin. It was a little bigger than the staffer cabin and currently seemed to be the only place around camp that was still awake and alive. Voices drifted out of the open windows as Nate got nearer, and as he jogged up the front steps to the porch, he peered in through the screen door.

Inside, the counselors were all sitting around on old couches, recliners, or just pillows on the floor. They were laughing and playing board games, and Matt was at the center of them all, telling some story with Aliya hanging onto his every word. He looked fine, happy even, maybe even happier than Nate had seen him in a long time. He didn’t need to hear about whatever stuff Pam had dug up or her theories about if Afton was still in Matt’s head, and he certainly didn’t need to hear about Nate's problems, dead kids in his brain, and static in his skin.

He didn't need Nate.

Backing up a few steps, eyes darting around to the dark woods around him, Nate reached behind him for his knife, but he shook his head, left it in its sheath, and turned back for the staffer cabin. He’d had enough of causing trouble for one day.

With as little sleep as he’d gotten in the last three months, it was a wonder he was still on his feet at all, but he guessed he was just used to it at that point. To be fair, it was only his seething anger at Matt, at Pam, at the whole world really, that was keeping him awake. He was so caught up in his thoughts, in fact, that he didn’t see Pokaski step into the path ahead of him until they nearly collided.

“Hey!”

Nate looked up, flinching back suddenly as his heart started hammering in his chest again. “Pokaski! Geez! What do you want?”

“Stock said you weren't at work all day,” the big guy spat, narrowing his eyes at Nate and crossing his arms over his barrel chest. All these years and he was still just a huge bully.

“So?” Nate hissed and wondered what he’d done for karma to crap all over him so much in the same night. “You're not a cook, what do you care?”

Pokaski squared his shoulders. “Just wondering where you were.”

“And I’m wondering why that’s your business!” Nate tried to duck around him, but Pokaski grabbed his shoulder. Nate braced himself.

Rather than throwing a punch, though, Pokaski took a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself down. “I saw you sneaking around the maintenance shed earlier. What were you doing? Looking for trouble?”

Nate blinked, still half-expecting a slap or something for his attitude. “That was a maintenance shed? Why's it look so much like a Murder Shed then?”

“It does not!” Pokaski said defensively and then shook his head. “What's with you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?”

Rolling his eyes and stepping past him again, Nate muttered, “Whatever, I’m going to bed.”

But Pokaski stepped in front of him, a wall of barely contained rage. “Hey! Quit trying to walk away from this!” He didn’t seem to understand how exhausted Nate was, how little he cared about anything Pokaski had to say, how it wouldn’t matter to Nate now if he did take a swing. “You’re always running away, aren’t you?”

Nate grit his teeth and glared up at Pokaski. “What, like I tried to do when I was kid and you beat the crap out of me?”

Pokaski blinked. “I was mad.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, his hands curling into fists, “I’m getting a little pissed myself.”

“We were kids!”

Nate felt all twisted up inside, his memories mixing with hallucinations and all the pressure and anxiety and emotional repression he’d been living under - barely surviving under - for three months only for his brother to drag him to this place and abandon him again… it was too much. He was too tired. And he snapped.

“No, _I_ was a kid!” he shouted, not caring who heard them. “You were thirteen and the size of a quarterback! I was eleven and the size of a football!”

“Well you-!” Pokaski started, but Nate put all his weight into shoving him aside.

“Just stay away from me, Pokaski.”

He stalked past him, not looking back, not caring what Pokaski did next. But the handyman just ground his teeth together and took deep breaths, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He turned like he might go after Nate but then instead stomped off in the opposite direction, still breathing heavily and clenching his hands tight.

At the door to the staffer cabin, Nate turned and watched Pokaski leave. A hallucination of him as a thirteen year-old flashed in his place, or Nate figured that’s what it was before he rubbed his eyes and went inside.

He just wanted some sleep.


	7. Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for light torture and implied panic attack.
> 
> Have a good weekend! :)

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

It was late. Nate wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep. He’d hit his bed face-first, still in his clothes and shoes, and had instantly passed out, a welcome escape from what had shaped up to be a real banger of a day, even for him - until now that he felt something brush along his arm. He jolted awake at the light, tickling touch, trying to sit up, but a hand at the back of his neck held him down while another covered his mouth so he couldn’t call for help.

Eyes wide in terror, Nate stared up at Matt in the dim light of the cabin, a little of the moonlight slicing through the shutters over the window to cut across Matt’s face, but all Nate saw was Afton.

Slowly, Matt uncovered Nate’s mouth and lifted that hand to hold a finger to his lips before turning and pointing to the person in the next bunk over, sleeping with a night-mask over their eyes. Nate got the message. If he screamed, he’d wake the whole cabin, and that wouldn’t end well for anyone. Matt slowly turned back to him, a wide grin splitting his face.

He stood, released the back of Nate’s neck, and instead scooped both hands under Nate’s injured right side. With one heave, he flipped Nate over onto his back, half against the wall, and then he sat down on the empty space on the bed, folding one leg over the other and making himself comfortable. Pain flared bright and burning in his side as Nate clenched his jaw tight to bite back a groan, and he clutched at his stitches.

But the pain was nothing compared to the terror he felt.

Glaring at Matt, Nate reached behind himself for his iron hunting knife, but where he should’ve felt the handle, Nate only felt the back of his shirt, the empty sheath. At the subtle look of horror that flickered through Nate's eyes, Matt reached down and picked up the familiar knife, letting it flash in the moonlight as Nate swallowed. He looked to Nate then, touched the tip of the blade to the wide scar across Matt’s palm, and shook a finger at him. His mouth pulled down at the corners, his eyes almost sad, as if Nate had misbehaved, a silly childish mistake.

Nate was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Matt twisted to look at him, his eyes wandering up and down Nate like he was drinking him in. Like he was an old friend who hadn’t seen Nate in a long, long time. Then as he noticed the small bloodstains blooming in the fabric of Nate's shirt, he reached for the hem. At the sight of his hand drawing closer, Nate’s eyes widened more, body stock still. Matt paused to savor the look, his smile pulling wider, before he drew up the fabric of Nate’s shirt slowly, almost gently, to reveal the map of injuries across his skin.

He glanced up to Nate again with an expression of shock, maybe something close to jealous rage. Someone had been too rough with his favorite toy.

Eyes bright with morbid curiosity, Matt inspected every bruise and cut closely. He tapped the tip of the knife against each one, so feather-light that Nate could hardly feel it. But each touch sent a subtle jolt through his body as Nate strained to hold every muscle perfectly still. Every bruise he'd worked so hard to hide, every injury he'd kept secret - not only from Matt but from John as well - were laid bare under Afton's delighted eyes, like the sickest kind of practical joke. Finally, Matt shook his head sadly, almost sympathetically, at Nate.

The same look Nate had seen in Matt’s eyes after they’d left the motel: pity.

Afton pitied him, and it felt like fire under Nate's skin.

Without warning, one hand shot out suddenly to cup Nate’s mouth again and pin him down against the wall while the other hand dragged the iron blade up and down Nate’s abdomen, carving lightly, just enough to draw pinpricks of blood to the surface. Nate gave a choked and muffled cry and clutched weakly at the wrist holding him down, his eyes blown wide and staring at the dark ceiling above him. When he finished, Matt peered adoringly at his work for a moment and released Nate again, even patted his cheek, and Nate managed a shivering, shallow breath.

Matt leaned back onto one hand and returned to just peering over Nate, tilting his head from one side to the other, and Nate sagged against the wall, panting. But he hardly had time to catch his breath before Matt ran the tip of the blade down the length of Nate’s stitches. Up and down, watching as the breath caught in Nate’s lungs, up and down again like a xylophone, achingly slow. Nate flinched back from the blade and bit down hard on his hand to keep from screaming.

Matt smiled in delight as he tapped each stitch, one at a time, relishing each of the tiny tremors between them. Unable to breathe, Nate felt the room begin to spin around them. Satisfied, almost proud, Matt drew back the blade, rolled Nate’s shirt back into place, and gave his side a gentle pat over the wound. Now shivering tremendously, his breaths coming in gasps and hiccups, Nate stared back as Matt watched him begin to hyperventilate, a pleasant smile on his face.

He reached out again, this time Nate’s whole body reacting in one violent jerk, but after a pause, Matt placed his curled fingers to Nate’s clenched jaw and with that gentle touch alone, moved Nate into a sitting position, his back pressed against the wall, his hands gripping the sheets, long legs curled tightly underneath him. Then with one finger, Matt turned Nate’s head to either side, inspecting his short hair. He reached up to comb it into place, almost maternally, curling his fingers in it as Nate flinched bodily again. His chest heaved and fell rapidly with every attempt to take a breath.

Finally Matt's gaze wandered down to the bracelet on Nate’s wrist. The pastel colors were faded with age, but the bracelet itself had been carefully maintained after all those years. And with dark delight, Matt slid the iron hunting knife beneath it and moved up as if to cut it off. But Nate hissed through clenched teeth, “Don’t.”

Baffled by this small act of rebellion, Matt drew the knife back as Nate mustered up the harshest glare he could manage. Then, licking his lips, Matt leaned against Nate’s chest, his head hanging over Nate’s shoulder. He paused a moment to bask in the terror as Nate screwed his eyes shut and gulped for each, sporadic breath.

Finally Matt whispered, his breath tickling Nate’s ear and neck, “I missed you.” He paused one last time before he struck Nate’s ribs hard, and Nate doubled over to one side, coughing and struggling not to make a sound, face contorted in pain.

His rib cage burned, lungs begged for breath, but Nate shoved it all down. Bit into his hand until he tasted blood. And as he finally got control of himself again, he noticed that the lower half of his shirt was now stained red with blood. His stitches.

When Nate lifted his eyes again and looked around, Matt was gone. And swallowing the bile quickly rising in his throat, Nate collapsed against the bed again. His body twisted, back arched, as he struggled to breathe, and the pain and the panic rushed over him in waves.

  
  


Just as the last of the counselors were heading to bed for the night, Aliya heard a knock at the cabin door. Getting up from the couch, she peeked out the window to check who it was before quickly opening the door. Nathan Smith looked like he might fall over dead at any moment.

“Nate?" Aliya gasped and looked him over. "Are you okay?”

He plastered on a weak grin, his face damp with sweat and uncomfortably pale. “Hey-hey, Aliya," he grimaced as his chest constricted again, "is-is Matt in there?” Blinking, Nate tried to look past her, but the whole world was a spinning blur.

Aliya glanced inside briefly but shook her head. “No, I think he actually went out looking for you. He must have just missed you.”

Nate flinched at her choice of words and tried to hide it. “Must have. C-can you see if he’s back?” He screwed his eyes shut, feeling more and more nauseous the longer he tried to remain standing.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Aliya said, but as she glanced back at Nate, she realized he was listing to one side. “Just - do you need to come in? Sit down?”

“I just need to talk to my brother!” Nate demanded. His whole body was shaking again. He’d only just managed to drag himself to the counselor’s cabin, using every last scrap of strength to hold himself together. If he went down again, he wasn’t getting back up.

Aliya nodded. “Yes, of course, one second.” She darted back inside, and Nate had to lean against the side of the cabin, cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. He pulled his hand away from his ribs to find it fully coated in blood, and this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t some hallucination either. It wouldn’t be much longer before it soaked through his flannel, too. And then they would have problems.

Matt appeared a moment later, swimming in Nate’s groggy vision as Nate tucked his bloody hand against his side again. “Hey, I just went to find you-” Matt paused at the twisted look of pain on his brother’s face, and his stomach lurched in fear. “What happened?”

Nate cut his eyes towards the door where Aliya was standing watching them, and he turned away from her, his shoulders curling in. “Mess hall, now.”

Nodding, Matt grabbed his jacket from inside the door to the cabin and draped it around Nate’s shoulders before he jerked his head for Aliya to head back inside. She gave him a worried look but eventually disappeared. Matt shut the door after her and practically carried Nate down the steps to the dirt path.

“How do you always end up finding trouble?” Matt asked, his heart racing as the smell of blood reached his nose. He'd just gotten his brother back and already the kid was bleeding again.

Nate shook his head, barely able to support himself even leaning so heavily against Matt. “This might surprise you,” he gasped, “but sometimes trouble finds me.”

In the mess hall, Matt eased Nate down onto one of the tabletops, his feet propped on the bench. Once Nate was settled, Matt ran to the kitchen and started flipping on a few lights until he found the first-aid kit. Grabbing it off the shelf in the supply closet, he hurried back to Nate who was shrugging off his flannel and painfully peeling the side of his t-shirt away from his blood-soaked skin.

Matt sat down on the bench near Nate’s feet, the sight of his untied shoes stopping Matt short for a moment. It was such a stark contrast, that little detail, to the sight of Nate’s wound. Suddenly Matt was caught somewhere between that moment with his bleeding brother who wouldn’t look him in the eyes and nine year-old Nate who insisted he knew how to tie his shoes himself, who walked around with his laces hanging everywhere, tripping and falling over himself, until Matt finally convinced Nate to let Matt teach him.

That kid was sitting there bleeding, and Matt was trying hard not to panic. He took a deep, calming breath and inspected the wound closer. “What happened?”

“I tore open some stitches, obviously,” Nate muttered, his voice breathy and distant. His hands, fingers stained with his own blood, busied themselves with twisting up his discarded flannel. He was vaguely aware of wiping them off on the fabric.

Matt poured alcohol into some gauze and scoffed quietly, “Yeah, I can see that,” still focusing on keeping his fingers from trembling, still a little stunned at the injury. Nate hadn’t told him about it, not that he had to, but if it was so fresh, maybe it was something Matt should’ve known about before now. “What did you do - go fight that bear?”

“Fell,” he choked as Matt started to clean the wound. His touch was just as gentle as it had been... Nate struggled to uncurl himself so Matt could get at the cut properly, but everything in him was screaming that Matt was a threat, Matt was going to hurt him again, and Nate needed to run. And it took all of Nate's focus to keep himself still.

Glancing up at Nate's face momentarily, worry wrinkling up his forehead, Matt counted the broken stitches and wondered how - with Nate looking as bad as he already did - he was going to get a needle anywhere near his little brother, who hated the very mention of the things. “Fell from what? A building?”

Nate shuddered involuntarily, and it made Matt pause again. But every time Nate looked at Matt’s hands, every time he closed his eyes and forgot where he was - Nate swallowed and focused on keeping his dinner in his stomach. “Would you believe my bed?”

This time Matt looked up at him, really looked, and saw that Nate wasn’t just exhausted or even a little woozy from blood loss, he was terrified, shaking like a leaf. Matt wasn’t so sure his brother wasn’t lying to him, and if he was, Matt couldn’t help but wonder why. But he kept his expression as calm as he could manage and went back to work. One thing at a time.

“Just - try to hold still, kiddo, and don’t look, okay?”

Nate turned his head away, biting his lip, propped one arm onto Matt’s shoulder, dug in with his nails, and gave a pained, “Yes, sir.”

They both went very quiet as Matt started removing the busted stitches and sewing new ones. It wasn’t a pretty process, but thankfully Matt remembered how to do it correctly. He only wished he could get his hands to work faster. Nate was already forcing himself to take slow, shallow breaths so he didn’t move too much, but on top of that, Matt knew how much he hated this.

Nate hissed in a sudden breath as Matt tied off one of the stitches. “Almost there,” he assured him gently, wanted to stop and hug him tight so he could stop the panic he knew was coursing through his kid brother, but he couldn't, not yet. “Two more to go. I’ll be quick.” When Nate nodded, still not looking, Matt went back to work.

He looked down at the untied shoelaces again and felt a little sick before he moved his eyes back to the wound. Only this time, he began to notice the other injuries, too - the bruises, the shallow cuts, and something else…

Matt dropped the needle and stood up suddenly, tripping over the bench as he stumbled back. The movement jolted Nate out of his daze, and he looked up at Matt with a nervous frown. Matt darted to the corner of the room and started turning on more lights, and when he returned, he stared at Nate again, eyes wide.

“What?” Nate asked, feeling new fear rattling in his chest.

But Matt just stared in horror at Nate’s skin, reached gently towards him, and then recoiled again. When he did manage to speak, his voice shook, “Who - Nate - who did this?”

“What?!” Nate snapped at him, hands curled on the edges of the table as Matt’s eyes wandered up to meet Nate’s. Neither of them could breathe. Nate pulled up his shirt higher and saw something - some new scratches among the old wounds, but it didn’t make sense to his panicking brain.

He staggered to his feet and burst into the nearest bathroom, nearly tripping over his shoelaces, holding up his shirt as he stared into the mirror, and finally everything fit into place. Afton dragging the knife up and down his skin, the blade digging in just enough to leave a fine red mark. In the mirror, Nate could read the word “MINE” carved across his abdomen.

Panic, fresh and new and too real, made the world spin.

And Nate turned as Matt came to stand in the door to the bathroom behind him. Matt’s eyes were wide, frightened. He held himself against the doorframe. “Nate,” he said, his voice measured, trying to stay calm, “who did this to you?”

The wound was fresh, Matt told himself. It was fresh and deliberate and _possessive_. Someone had carved up his little brother. And Nate was going to try to pass it off as an accident. So not only was he hurt, he was scared. Petrified, even, to the point that he would lie about someone attacking him, torturing him. And that only made Matt even more terrified.

But Nate wasn’t answering. He was gulping for air that wasn’t coming, head spinning, heart hammering in his ears, vision going dark. He swayed. “I can’t - I - Matt…” His whole body shaking, Nate reached out to his brother as he fell to his knees.


	8. The Kids are Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to be back!
> 
> Just a reminder/announcement, in case anyone on here doesn't follow our Tumblr blog. For serious reasons that we are not open to discussing, Andy Stein's character will be replaced by Jonathan Indovino (shadypenguinn). This won't make any major waves in the story, just know that when we refer to Jonathan, that's who we're talking about and also that he is taking over the role of Andy. We're going to be slowly changing previous episodes to include Jonathan so please be patient while we transition, thanks!

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

Shouting, screaming kids woke Nate from sleep the next morning. Panic hit him hard in the chest. Jaw dropping open and hands grabbing beneath his pillow for a knife that wasn’t there, his whole body went stiff with fear, thoughts shouting, _Afton_ , but the kids were just outside playing. Their shouts quickly turned to laughter and faded off as they ran past. Nate’s head sank back into the pillow.

A quick glance at the room revealed that Nate was back in his bunk, and he was alone. Everyone else had likely cleared out for the day, which meant this made two days of work he was missing. Not that it mattered. A chair sat next to his bed where he certainly didn’t remember one being there before, though it was currently empty. Once the kids ran past outside, the room fell quiet, and Nate could hear his raspy breathing and stammering heartbeat.

He really needed a vacation.

Taking stock, his cotton mouth was something terrible, his head heavy, his muscles sore, his right side stiff and most likely swollen. But he seemed to be in one piece still. In the warm, morning light and the seclusion of the empty staffer cabin where he was neatly tucked into bed, Nate would’ve thought the events of the previous night were some kind of terrible nightmare, but as he tried to sit up, he felt the sore tug of broken and replaced stitches. And reality set in, a cold splash of water in his lungs.

Nate heard whispering at the door and tensed again. He had no idea where his hunting knife had gone in the madness of last night, and his fingers itched for the familiar handle to grip when he was nervous. But the door opened to reveal first the kids from Matt’s cabin, then Matt himself, with Aliya close behind. The kids tiptoed to Nate’s bed until they saw that he was awake. Then they bounded over excitedly, all leaning in at once and wishing him good morning and asking if he was going to die or not. Nate stared up at them in quiet confusion for a moment before his eyes shifted to his brother.

Matt, carrying a covered tray from the mess hall in one hand, swept them all back a bit. “Morning, sunshine. Apparently the fine young minds at _Cabin de la Elmwood_ heard you got real sick last night and wanted to stop by.”

Nate sat up a bit more, wincing at the pain in his side, and then finally eased himself into a half-sitting position and offered a smile to the kids. Suzie jutted her thumb towards the tray that Matt was carrying. “We brought you breakfast! Not as good as your pancakes, though.”

She stopped herself suddenly like she’d been caught, and she amended, “Not - not that you made them taste good or anything.” She sneered at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You're still a loser who managed to get sick at summer camp!”

Blinking, Nate had to admit to himself that seeing the kids - especially seeing that they were safe - lifted his spirits a little. Sarcastically, he murmured, “Morning to you too, Suzie.”

From the door, Aliya explained, “Stock let us raid the kitchen for anything we wanted. They chose everything, so that might explain your... eclectic menu.” She made a face where the kids couldn’t see, and Nate could only imagine what those three had managed to concoct for him.

Raleigh bounced forward then and climbed up onto the bed beside Nate. He pushed back his hat to very formally present Nate with a hand-drawn “Get Well” card. “We made this to help you feel better!” Nate opened it to see a few stick figures that he assumed were himself and Matt along with the three kids and their sloppy signatures, even Matt’s, and Aliya’s.

“Hey, don’t drag me into this. It was your stupid idea,” Suzie grumbled even though she’d signed her name along the bottom of the card in large, purple letters.

Nate grinned down at the card before carefully folding it closed again. “This is the nicest present I’ve ever gotten.” It made Raleigh glow with pride, Suzie roll her eyes, and Kris elbow her in the side.

Aliya stepped forward to stand by Matt. She reached out to ruffle Kris’ hair a bit even though the face he made would suggest he didn’t enjoy the gesture. “They've been pretty worried about you all morning,” she glanced up at Matt, adding, “both of you.”

Matt ducked his head a bit, avoiding Nate’s gaze as he looked between his older brother and the empty chair beside his bed. Matt rubbed his sore neck and whispered, “Yeah, thanks for keeping an eye on them, Aliya.”

“Don’t forget we were the ones who agreed to let her ‘entertain’ us,” Suzie grumbled and leaned one shoulder against Nate’s bedpost.

Raleigh bounced a little, jostling Nate who winced, though the kid didn’t seem to notice. “We finally got to go to the Handmade tent!”

“You mean the ‘glitter gel and old glue’ tent?” Nate asked sarcastically, and Suzie nodded her head with another deep, long-suffering sigh.

“That’s it.”

Aliya placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder and swept her hair back from her face. She was practically shining with golden morning light that flowed in through the window behind her, and it hurt Nate’s eyes to look at her. “It was no problem, MatPat. They loved it.” She wiggled her eyebrows in Suzie’s direction. “All of them.” Suzie replied by sticking her tongue out at Aliya, who giggled good-naturedly.

“Well, I’m feeling better,” Nate offered. He didn’t miss the look that Matt shot in his direction, but Nate elected to ignore it for the time being and instead poked Suzie in the arm. “Guess all I needed was some sleep and a visit from my three favorite chuckleheads.”

“Good!” Raleigh sighed in relief. “Because I really didn’t want to get sick from you.”

Nate snorted and ruffled Raleigh’s oversized fishing hat. “Don’t worry, little dude, you won’t catch this.” Another worried glance from Matt, more ignoring said glance from Nate, and Nate instead glanced at Kris who gave him a discreet thumbs-up which Nate returned.

In her most-chipper, Queen Bee voice, Aliya declared, “Alright you three, I promised to take you swimming, and I think Birch is headed that way now. Let's get going!”

Suzie whooped in excitement before catching herself again, looking between Matt and Nate who were both silently amused. “I mean, I don't want to swim with other kids! They're too loud!” She pulled a disgusted face but still couldn't manage to hide the delight in her eyes.

Matt winked at her and set the tray down on the empty chair. “Well, practice your deep-sea diving. Then you won't hear them.” Suzie glared harmlessly back at him before she and Kris raced to the door, shoving to see who could get out first. Meanwhile, Raleigh threw his scrawny arms around Nate’s neck before scampering off the bed and out the door after them.

Aliya offered one last smile before she shut the door behind them, leaving the brothers in silence - instantly awkward silence. Nate collapsed back into his pillows, somehow feeling exhausted aready. After a moment, he pulled off his sweat-damp headband and rubbed at his too-short hair.

Ignoring the radioactive awkwardness in the room, Matt sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed and lifted the cover from the tray laid out on the chair. “Oh. I see. This isn't a food pyramid; it's a food trapezoid.”

Nate frowned and slowly moved his feet over the edge of the bed to sit up again - all a very precarious operation - as Matt handed him one of the two plates on the tray. A gourmet treat, his was full of mac and cheese, a PB&J cut into triangles, green jello, and a mound of still half-frozen peas, a healthy little afterthought. The sight of it alone, thinking of the kids putting it together for him, made Nate chuckle to himself as he grabbed a plastic fork from the tray.

“Alright, my kinda meal!”

Matt, with his own plate piled high with a wild assortment of random unhealthy foods, picked up a carton of chocolate milk from the tray along with a cup of yogurt, offering the two of them to Nate. He eeny-meeny-miny-moed it and chose the yogurt, and the brothers toasted before digging in.

As they did, Nate couldn’t help but notice the tension in Matt’s shoulders, the way he was very obviously not talking about what happened last night even though it was clear he wanted to. And Matt couldn’t help but notice that Nate was dodging eye-contact like he was dancing through a hail of gunfire. Neither of them wanted to be the first to speak, so they doggedly ate their meals in silence for a while, simmering and probably raising the temperature of the room around them a few degrees.

It was Nate who finally broke first, though still giving the tricky subject a wide berth.

“I had the... _pleasure_ of meeting Pam yesterday.”

That random comment certainly interrupted the inner dialogue - really more like ranting, inner monologue - going on in Matt’s head, and he poked his fork at some frozen strawberries. “And?”

Nate shrugged, which hurt a lot more the morning after breaking stitches. “She seems sincere. Wants to help.” He paused. Of course, after everything, it seemed like that conversation happened a week ago, but if anything, Nate walked away with more questions than answers. “Also, she said she's the one that found the cure for Jonathan.”

“Yep, came out of nowhere with that one.” Matt reached over and stole one of Nate’s PB&J triangles before Nate could poke him with his plastic fork, but that was the only explanation he offered. Matt's stomach flip flopped at the bruising, very recent teeth marks dug into Nate's hand. After a bit more munching, he asked, “She tell you why she wants to help so badly?”

“Never actually came up.” Nate swallowed a spoonful of yogurt and frowned to himself. Nothing felt right about this conversation, and when he looked up, Matt was frowning back at him.

Nate shrugged - ow. “What? It was a short conversation. Anyway, I told her that we were looking for a cursed item that was planting some bad mojo on people, and she said she'd keep her eyes open.” If she hadn’t called him a raving lunatic and stormed out then, Nate figured she must know more than she let on.

“She at least mention how she happens to know about any of this?” Matt asked. Suddenly he couldn’t swallow the peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“Nope.” Nate stole glances up at his brother. His eyes were greener at camp, surrounded by trees and the lake, but right now Matt’s eyes were pinched at the corners. He couldn’t stop thinking about last night, even long enough to pretend to be engaged in their current conversation.

John wasn’t sadistic. He didn't take joy from hurting his kid. He believed in discipline, the harsh kind, but not pain just for the sake of it. And that was the trouble. Matt wanted to be angry at someone. Before, it had been John. It was always John, and when he took Nate, it gave Matt even more reason to hate him. But that one word, the angry, red letters, had haunted Matt for the rest of the night. And he wanted to have someone to direct his anger and horror at, someone to attack or threaten or protect Nate from, but Nate wouldn’t tell him who had done it.

Matt couldn’t understand why. And that only made everything worse.

“Oh. This isn’t half bad,” Nate said towards his mac and cheese, his big brown eyes flicking up to Matt.

He took a breath and crammed down his anger tight in the pit of his stomach. Whatever reason Nate had for trying to hide it, Matt didn’t want to make matters worse for him. So he speared himself a bite of mac and cheese, chewing on it in silence as he nodded in agreement, afraid that if he opened his mouth, all his fears and anger would spill right out. Nate’s shoulders sagged.

“Dude, what?” he asked, those same brown eyes flashing.

Matt stole another bite of mac and cheese. “What do you mean?”

Nate grinned sardonically. “Oh please. You're seething. I don't know who at, but it's making me lose my appetite. So, go for it.” Nate motioned with his hand for Matt to bring it on, whatever he was holding in. “You want to shout? You want to take a swing? What? Let it all out, man.”

But Matt shook his head. “I’m not mad.” Not at Nate, at least.

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” Nate said, dropping his fork onto his plate and setting it onto the tray. Then he stood, his breath caught in his throat at the pain in his side, and grabbed for his duffel bag.

Turning his back to Matt, he tugged his bloody shirt over his head, and Matt twisted his fork through his fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” He rummaged through his things for a change of clothes, but everything was either stained in blood, monster goo, or worse. “Comfy as I am, I’m not running around camp in boxers.”

“Running around doing what?” Matt watched his brother’s shoulders tense up as he reached into the backpack he carried with him and tossed Nate his spare shirt.

Nate didn’t want to admit that his dad had thrown out most of his shirts - said if Nate wanted to be treated like an adult he could start dressing like one and trash the video games and cartoons and grow up. Nate cleared his throat. “Stopping a child-murdering serial killer, for one. Getting some fresh air, for two." He paused to let a little of the pain in his side fade before taking another breath. "I feel like I ran a marathon last night.”

Matt set his own plate aside, all the food half-eaten, and continued to twirl his fork through his fingers. “Well, you did have a panic attack.”

Nate paused. “I did?” He really couldn’t recall anything after he’d seen his reflection in the mirror.

Matt felt an ache in his chest that spread like wildfire, and he squeezed at the back of his neck, trying to massage away some of the soreness. He’d helped his little brother through more panic attacks than he’d like to admit, but the one from the night before had been more than even Matt was used to handling. “You were pretty messed up.” _You were so messed up you thought I was going to hurt you. You fought every effort I made to calm you down, and you won't explain why. And you won't tell me who did this, and I can't help but think..._ Matt screwed his eyes shut and put an end to that train of thought quickly.

With his back to Matt, Nate rubbed at the letters carved on his abdomen and frowned. They wouldn't scar, not deep enough for that, and that fact, at least, was some small comfort. “Yeah, I wonder why,” he whispered to himself and pulled the shirt over his head. He glanced over his shoulder at Matt who was poking at his food again. Nate wondered how much he knew, if he’d said anything during the panic attack last night to make things worse.

But since Matt wouldn’t say anything either way, Nate just kept getting dressed. He’d deal with it later.

* * *

Back in the parking lot of the camp again, Nate drummed his knuckles lightly on the hood of the Firebird, happy to see her. “Hello you beautiful metal deathtrap you.” Matt trailing silently behind him, Nate fiddled with his keys for a moment before popping the trunk open and lifting the false bottom to reveal his arsenal.

Matt noted how uncharacteristically neat it all was and frowned a little.

Nate leaned down to search through the weapons for a few things in particular as someone crept up behind the boys. “What’re you looking for?”

Spooked by the female voice, Nate jumped and knocked his head against the false bottom of the trunk. Matt winced as Nate reached back, turning to glare daggers at Pam who smiled and waved back. _Touche_.

“Morning to you, too,” Nate grumbled.

“‘Morning’?” Pam asked with a raised eyebrow, and Matt just shook his head.

“We’ve had a long night.” Matt watched Nate’s eyes drop, but he also didn’t miss the look that Pam gave him as she looked him over, the way she bristled like a cat that spotted a dog in the yard. When Matt gave her a questioning glance, she looked away and shook it off.

Instead, she focused her attention on Nate, who had gone back to searching through his arsenal. “Your lost sense of purpose isn't in your trunk, Sherlock.”

Straightening again, Nate gawked at her, and he opened his mouth to say something equally unkind about her parentage and exactly where she could stick her snarky comments before Matt cleared his throat and said, “Heard the two of you finally met.”

Boy had they, Nate thought as Pam answered, “We did. Nate filled me in on what we're expecting, more or less.”

“Mostly less,” Nate muttered as he finally found the wooden box he was looking for, and he fumbled with his keys again to get the right one to open the box.

Pam wiggled her eyebrows. “And asked me to look into a little something for him.” But she was interrupted when Nate popped the lid on the wooden box and tossed her something - a small, leather pouch filled with a few items. Pam recognized it right away.

“Hex bags?” Matt asked as one hit him in the chest, and he frowned down at it as if his little brother had tossed him a dirty sock.

Nate shrugged as he hung one of the hex bags around his neck on a long leather string and tucked it into the front of his t-shirt where it rested just over his heart. “Whipped ‘em up when I was… on vacation.” Matt’s eyes narrowed, and Nate chewed his lip. “But these things ward off evil spirits, right? Worth a shot.”

Turning back to the trunk so that his back was to Matt, Nate threw Pam a look that said, loud and clear, _Something went down last night_. Pam, as if in response, tucked the hex bag into the back pocket of her jeans. She seemed to understand but also knew enough to keep up her usual sweet smile.

Matt sighed, unaware of the silent exchange, and put the leather string around his neck. “What did you find?”

“Oh!” Pam snapped her fingers. “Nate said he found some kind of a mini power plant outside the camp? Apparently, Camp Wannapee-”

She stopped when Nate snickered to himself, and both she and Matt turned to look at him. Nate shrugged. “I’m seriously the only one? It’s funny!” He waved them off and went back to looking through the trunk for more things they could use. It wasn’t his fault neither of them had a sense of humor intact.

“- is looking into upgrading their infrastructure.” Pam held up a finger as if to amend her statement. “And by that I mean, _implementing_ an infrastructure.”

Nate pulled a silver knife from the collection he had and slipped it into the empty sheath at his back. “Meaning…?” He spotted Matt eyeing the knife from the corner of his eye, and Nate hoped he didn’t question it too much.

They both knew Nate never let his iron hunting knife out of his sight. Willingly.

“Meaning, solar powered electrical lights. Well, electrical everything.” Pam had spent the better part of the night going through files for work orders around the camp, and it was extensive to say the least. “They're currently transitioning from natural gas to fully solar.”

Nate hid another small silver knife in his right boot as he asked, “That's it? That's what I spent an hour hiking through the woods to find?” He rolled his eyes as Pam shrugged her shoulders. “Great. Go green!”

Normally Matt would've been annoyed by his brother's less than stellar attitude - as annoyed as Pam seemed right at that moment - but after what he'd seen last night, Matt was surprised the kid was functioning at all. So he decided to let the snarky comments slide, instead turning back to Pam. “Did you find anything that might have been from Freddy's? Recent purchases, aside from the power grid stuff?”

“Not really.” Pam rubbed at her tired eyes. “No animatronics, no pizza platters, no party hats, nothing.” She looked up at the boys and saw that her disappointment was mirrored in their eyes, as well as her exhaustion.

Nate pulled out another silver knife and spun it through his fingers with a fake smile. “This morning just keeps getting better and better!” Finally he tucked the knife into an empty sheath and then held it out to Matt who frowned at it.

“Uh, I can’t carry that,” he said, his eyes flicking up to Nate’s in confusion.

Nate blinked. “Why not?”

Matt sighed in frustration, a sarcastic smile tugging at his mouth. “Because I'm working with kids! Legally you shouldn't have any of this on the grounds, and you shouldn't be carrying at all.”

Nate poked out his bottom lip and raised the knife towards Matt another inch. “What if I get attacked by a bear?”

Rolling his eyes, Matt answered, deadpan, “There are no bears in Ohio, Nate.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, unphased. “Cougars?”

Matt raised an eyebrow back at him. “Well, a knife won’t do you much good on those.”

“Unless they’re into it,” Nate said and shrugged, batting his eyes.

Matt frowned at him a moment until the joke sank in. Then - glaring at his brother but at least a little comforted that Nate was joking around - he took the knife, and Nate smirked with pride. Pam just shook her head. They were insufferable.

Pam raised her hands a little, fingers spread wide. “So now what do we do? We have no idea which object we have to salt and torch, or shish kabob.” Nate flinched a little and looked down as Pam asked, “You still have your iron knife, right?”

“Uh, it’s somewhere,” he said towards his boots.

“You lost it?” Matt asked as Nate confirmed his earlier suspicion. “That thing’s always glued to your hip! Or… back.”

“Hey, I didn’t lose it!” Nate snapped, a little harsher than necessary. “Just don’t know where it is right now.” Leave it to Afton to run off with the one thing that still made Nate feel safe.

“Well, now what?” Pam asked and was met with silence.

Finally, Nate drew one of the silver knives and raised the hex bag from under his collar. “Next best thing?”

Pam threw her hands over her head, spinning in a tight circle. “Great!” She sighed then as if she’d come to a decision, one that she wasn't altogether happy about. “Alright, I - I might have something we can use.”

Matt looked up at her in surprise. Of course, he figured that she had more than just the cure to vampirism on her, but she certainly hadn’t offered much so far. “Something to break the spell?”

“Something to _find_ the spell,” she corrected him. Then she pointed a finger between the two of them. “And then _you meatheads_ figure out how to break it.” Pam’s eyes flickered back and forth from one brother to the other. They looked like crap. They had maybe a brain cell and a half between the two of them, but she didn’t have a lot of options here. She sighed and jerked her head towards her own car.

“Come with me.”


	9. There are No Happy Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all were ready for shenanigans, right?

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

A dozen picnic tables sat scattered beneath the trees outside of the mess hall, and Nate and Matt picked one in the shade where they sat down, careful of the rougher spots in the wood surface so they didn't get splinters. As Pam joined them and sat on the edge of the table, she dropped a thick leather journal between the boys. It hit the table with a heavy smack, and Nate jumped, having zoned out, eyes wandering towards the woods. Matt picked the journal up, tried to open it, but the cover wouldn’t budge. He frowned down at it and then up at Pam. She smirked, silently holding out her hand.

With an annoyed huff, Matt handed the book back to her, and grinning, Pam flicked the cover open with a single finger, easy as pie. Nate snorted as he caught the shocked expression on his brother’s face. Then flipping the journal around, Pam showed them the underside of the leather cover where a sigil was burned into the leather. “Magic, boys.” She waved her fingers over the book like the lady on Wheel of Fortune. “Only I can open it.”

Nate nodded, impressed, but Matt seemed somewhat skeptical. He usually was when “magic” was involved. Sensing his skepticism, Pam tossed the journal to him. Matt caught it with a gasp, “Whoa!” And he began to leaf through it. The notebook was filled with sigils, charms, diagrams, drawings, and recipes - covering a hundred other things, too. He even recognized a few items from all of his research.

As Matt flipped excitedly through the pages, Nate glanced up warily at Pam, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“What is all of this?” Matt asked, eyes wide as he peered up at Pam.

“A little bit of everything," she simpered a bit, obviously proud of herself. "I told you, I'm a collector. And these pages…” Pam reached forward and flipped towards the back of the notebook - all blank. “... are saved for whatever spell Afton is using to continuously cheat death.” Pam frowned down at the empty paper, as if she could will the spell to appear on it.

Nate’s shoulders stiffened. “You want the spell?”

Pam crossed her arms over her chest as she moved to sit on the bench across from the boys. “I've always wanted the spell. If I have it, I can protect it.”

“And sell it off to the highest bidder,” Matt guessed cynically.

But Pam glared daggers back at him, surprisingly genuine as she said, “I don't work like that. Afton was a monster. This is my way of making sure no one else can do whatever it is he's doing.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, and neither of the boys had to wonder if it was from being cold. “The spell will be safe in here. Never again seen by mortal - or immortal - eyes unless I want them to.”

Nate wished again that he had his hunting knife. The silver one didn't fit right in his hand, so he fidgeted with his bracelet to keep his mind off the missing weapon. And where it might turn up. “So how does this help?”

Pam took the journal back from Matt, flipped through some pages, and turned it back towards them when she found the spell she was looking for. “This is an old alchemy spell. It was ‘commissioned,’ shall we say, in the late third century by some overzealous religious men to track down and put a stop to any unsanctioned alchemical activity.”

Matt traced his thumbnail along his bottom lip in thought, looking over the instructions for the spell as Pam handed it over again. “Alchemy itself was mostly science, largely misunderstood as magic, or so I understand.” He’d certainly read enough about it over the last few months. The spells might be gibberish to most others, but not to him - practically a second language at this point. Even if he wasn't sure of the validity of their effects.

“Well, all paranoia starts with some level of truth,” Pam conceded and leaned her elbows onto the table, her chin perched on her folded hands as she observed the two brothers.

“So this,” Nate said, pointing to the spell before looking up at Pam again, eyebrows raised, “should hunt down our cursed item?”

Sighing, Pam nodded her head and spread her hands out towards them. “It should hunt down anything - or any _one_ \- being influenced by any level of alchemy.” Pam frowned a little, her head tottering from side to side. “Hopefully, anyway. I’ve never actually used this spell before.”

Matt sat back at that, and he eyed Pam suspiciously. “I’m assuming there’s a caveat here.”

“Well, it's alchemy, so it's like any other science experiment. I'm going to need supplies.” Pam reached forward and tapped the top right corner of the page where the spell’s ingredients were written in her half-cursive hand-writing.

Nate rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. “In the middle of nowhere?”

Pam held up a finger, reaching out to boop Nate’s nose, and Nate glared back at her. “Well, one of them is an open fire.”

Nate’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh!”

“Burning on air, without ash,” Matt read from the page.

“Oh.” Nate’s shoulders dropped an inch.

For a while, the trio sat in silence as they tried to figure out what this riddle could mean. Matt perked up first, and he waved his hands through the air excitedly. “Natural gas! It's mostly methane with a few other alkanes mixed in, but it's all fossils.” He moved so that his feet were perched on the picnic bench, and he leaned over the table to place the journal between them. “There’s nothing carbon to burn, so no ashes left behind. ‘Burning on air, without gas’!”

“Wait, methane?” Nate drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Don't people use that for gas stoves and stuff?”

Matt pushed himself up and shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, his elbows resting on his knees so he was perched gargoyle-style on the bench. “A lot of people use it for their home heating and cooling units, indoor fireplaces…”

“Yeah,” Nate said with a single nod, “ _and gas stoves and stuff._ ”

As realization dawned, Matt turned with wide eyes to Nate who shrugged with a coy smirk. Every now and then, he could be the smart one, too.

Outside the kitchen, the trio could hear the hustle and bustle of the staff working hard inside. Nate sighed and brushed his palms up and down his jeans. “It's almost time for the lunch rush. How are we supposed to use a stove for a magic spell now? Walk in and say ‘hey, move over, the occult just got here’?”

They were definitely going to get arrested for this.

Matt tapped a finger to his lips in thought before he bumped Nate’s shoulder with his. “Well, natural gas tends to have a pretty terrible smell when it's released, and if the whole camp is switching from natural gas to solar…” He rolled his eyes towards Nate who bobbed his head with a grin.

“So, we fake a leak.”

“Fake a gas leak?” Pam asked, a little surprised that they’d jumped to that conclusion quite so quickly. But she wasn’t against the idea either. “How?”

“You guys are going to fake a gas leak?!”

They all spun around quickly at the sound of Suzie’s voice. Raleigh and Kris seemed a bit sheepish to be caught snooping, but Suzie strode towards the adults and rubbed her hands together devilishly. “Can we help?”

Matt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you kids doing here? You should be at lunch right now.”

Raleigh tugged at his pink bandana. “Miss Aliya had work to do, so she handed us off to Birch-”

“But Birch is lame and wanted to spend all day tie-dyeing,” Suzie said and rolled her eyes, “so we snuck off!”

“Some of us wildly against our will!” Raleigh reminded her as he pulled the sides of his floppy fishing hat down around his ears, fearing they might get in trouble.

Nate plucked at the front of Matt's old t-shirt he'd borrowed and frowned. “I want to spend all day tie-dyeing.”

“So you're faking a gas leak?" Suzie asked once more in an attempt to get the conversation back to a topic she seemed very interested in. "Trying to clear out the kitchen and steal all the good food for yourselves? Genius!” Suzie smacked a hand against her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of this before?” She seemed almost disappointed in herself, and then she wiggled her bushy eyebrows up at them. “You guys need a stink bomb!” Her brown eyes traveled across their faces, Pam and Matt’s in shock and Nate’s breaking into a wide, delighted grin.

Matt blinked at her. “What?”

“I know how to make five different kinds of stink bombs,” Suzie said, holding out her hand in front of her, all five fingers extended. “Three of them are legal.” She put two fingers down and stared at the remaining three fingers, and after a moment, she put a third finger down then smiled up at the adults.

Matt drummed his fingers on his leg before chewing on his bottom lip. Looking to the others for an answer, Matt sighed. They didn’t have much of a choice at that moment. He pointed a finger at Suzie first and then the other two. “Do _not_ tell your parents about this. Or any of the other counselors. Or anyone. Ever.”

Beaming, Nate held up one finger and spun it in the air as he’d seen Rosanna do about a hundred times. “Let’s get started!”

Matt glared at him, but the kids all cheered. Suzie pumped her fist into the air, jumping up and down. “This is the best summer camp ever!”

* * *

Camp Wannapee  
May, 2000

On a ridiculously bright and sunny, perfect summer day, an old, twisted tree hung over one bank of the lake, a swinging rope hanging from its branches and barely skimming the surface of the water just beyond the reach of the shore. Nate sat among the branches like a little sulking crow wrapped in his comforting black hoodie despite the heat, the headband he wore making his hair stick out in places like tufts of unruly, black feathers. He chewed his fingernails unhappily and glared towards the lake.

In the distance, Matthew and the rest of his cabin enjoyed the sun and the water. With Aliya on his shoulders, Matt staggered through the water in a game of Chicken with two of their other cabinmates. Water splashing and children cheering, Matthew and Aliya quickly won the game, they always won, and when they won, they always hugged in celebration, cheering and laughing and splashing one another. And Matt was happy.

Nate, on the other hand, had decided he disliked camping even more than he previously thought.

Below him, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and it seemed like Xavon had found him… again. As the counselor peered up at him, Nate shied away and pulled his hood over his head.

“Been looking for you all day, brother.” Xavon sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. He’d obviously been out looking for Nate since he’d disappeared after breakfast that morning. “The rest of your cabin is hiking until dinner.”

Nate shrugged and watched Matt do another running leap off the small pier leading into the lake. “I didn’t want to hike.”

“Well, you don't want to hike.” Xavon leaned his shoulder against the trunk of the tree and crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn't want to go swimming yesterday, or canoeing the day before that, or woodshop the day before that. What do you want to do?”

Glaring as one of Matt’s friends dunked him under the water, Nate gathered his knees to his chest. “I want my brother to keep his promise.” Then finally looking down at Xavon, he muttered. “I want to stop being stared at by everyone else like I'm crazy or something.”

“Crazy?” Xavon frowned a little and slid down the trunk of the tree until he was sitting among the roots. He turned up his head to look at Nate high up in the thinner branches but well-balanced like he'd been climbing all his life. “I don’t think anyone’s been staring at you like that.”

“Then you haven’t been watching very closely.” Nate remembered his dad standing over him in the living room, telling him he had to train even when he was away, and he thought, too, about Mary telling him that he deserved to have a good time. But how could he do both? He watched Matt with his friends and felt his heart sink further. “I’m always the crazy one.”

Xavon followed Nate’s gaze to Matt and Aliya. They were the center of attention of their cabin, of the whole camp, really. They were the oldest, and the upper years always got the attention of the younger kids. Not to mention that as far as campers went, Matt and Aliya knew all the right things, and they had years worth of friends waiting for them to return each summer. Nate had none of that, and it was no wonder the kid felt overwhelmed when he compared himself to them.

“What promise did your brother make you?”

Nate shifted a little, and a few leaves fell down around Xavon as Nate climbed a bit higher into the tree. “He promised he’d make sure I’d have fun.”

Xavon crossed his arms over his chest in thought, the toe of his sneaker tapping. He scratched at one ear while he peered up at Nate again. “Well, that's a tall order, especially since you've been refusing to give it a chance.”

“He said he'd do it by being with me! Hanging out with me, letting me hang out with him and his friends!” Nate made it as high as he dared to climb before the branches began to sag even under his meager weight. He leaned towards the trunk and settled again with a sigh. “I hang out with his friends at school, so I don't see why this is any different. Why he suddenly doesn't want me around.”

Pursing his lips, Xavon folded his hands in his lap. “I've known Matt for many years. I don't think he ever doesn't want someone around.” Matt had always been a social butterfly, quick to make friends, and Xavon wished just a little of that charm had rubbed off on Matt’s little brother. So far, the kid had all the charisma of a porcupine with rabies.

But Xavon knew that Nate could have fun, if he’d just let himself. “You know that we usually keep the years apart, and Matt knows that too. Maybe if you two were closer in age it wouldn't be so hard, but the way you are…”

“Then why the hell am I even here?” Nate snapped somewhere overhead. “I might as well have stayed home and gone hunting with Dad, at least I'm used to _him_ ignoring me.” Nate clammed up. He hadn't meant to say that, but it was true, wasn't it? He plucked a few leaves off a nearby limb, tearing them into little pieces. He hated camping. He hated camp songs. He hated the food. He hated sleeping in the bunks. He hated the snotty kids who thought they were better than him.

And he hated being alone.

Xavon watched little pieces of leaves rain down from above him. He sighed deeply after letting a few moments pass in silence. “Why do you think it's up to your brother to help you make friends?”

That wasn’t something Nate had to think about very hard. “Because I can't on my own. I never have.” He’d always felt different, out of place, and he just couldn’t figure out why - other than the obvious. “There's something... wrong with me when it comes to other people. Matt's so much better around them than I am, he makes up for it.”

Nodding slowly, Xavon glanced towards the lake again. Matt’s cabin was drying off with their beach towels and heading back to change clothes. If Xavon was going to help Nate, he had to find a way for the kid to make friends without the help of his brother. “Well, is there anything you're good at?”

“Pokemon.”

Xavon snorted. “Anything here at camp, I mean.”

Nate shifted his position in the tree again, and through a break in the leaves around him, he could see across the whole lake. Only now that he looked down at Xavon did he realize just how high he had climbed. His dad never let him climb trees this high, but Nate was pretty good at it.

“Well, I’m good at climbing.” He shifted his weight to peer down at the water far below. “And diving, swimming, too. I can throw knives, wrestle, fight, track, hike, build a shelter, find water, do basic and some advanced first aid, handle a bow and arrow, a shotgun, and a standard manual pistol. And I can drive.” Nate frowned. “But that's not legal, and I'm not supposed to tell anyone that.”

Xavon stared up in shock as Nate started to climb back down the tree.

When Nate reached one of the low-hanging branches again, he stopped and shrugged his shoulders at his counselor. “My dad and I go hunting a lot. But none of that stuff makes people like me. Every time I try to talk to someone, something about me just shuts them down.” He grabbed fistfulls of his hair and curled in on himself again, pouting.

That was certainly more than Xavon was expecting, and he had a lot more questions than he had answers. But he did have at least one idea for how to help the kid out. He grinned up at Nate. “Climb down here for a second, little dude. I think I got an idea that might give you the confidence boost you need.”

Nate’s cabin gathered at the archery range, the kids all shuffling excitedly as Xavon showed them the equipment. Technically they were supposed to be at Arts and Crafts, but the kids rarely had the attention span for it. And Xavon was on a mission.

“Now I know none of you have used this before, at least not here, because you can't use the range until next year. But today I thought we'd have a little treat.” He looked through the crowd of kids until he spotted Nathan way in the back. “Nate? Come on up here, brother.” He waved him forward, and the others parted to let him through. Nate, with his head ducked and his hands shoved deep into his pockets, came to stand near Xavon. He’d just barely agreed to this and only after Xavon had bribed him with his personal secret candy stash. “What the rest of you might not know, is that Nate here is actually a highly skilled archer.” He rested a hand on Nate’s shoulder as he turned to face the rest of the cabin.

“You don’t actually know if that’s even close to being true,” Nate muttered under his breath to Xavon and plastered on an awkward smile for the other kids.

Xavon smiled as well, whispering back, “I know you won’t disappoint us.” He handed Nate a bow and an arrow which Nate spun nervously through his fingers. Xavon turned to the rest of the cabin again. “Now, I want you all to pay attention to Nate's form. First, you hold the bow in your non-dominant hand, pulling back on the string with your dominant. You want to keep your elbows straight but not locked, level with your shoulders.”

As he spoke, Nate notched the arrow and took aim at one of the many targets set up in front of a large mesh net. He had near perfect form from hours and hours training with his dad. John wanted him to be able to use any weapon he came into contact with, and while Nate wasn’t overly fond of the outdoors, archery had always been oddly relaxing.

“You take deep belly breaths, slow and steady,” Xavon continued, leaning down next to Nate’s shoulder, “and stare past the arrowhead to the target to take aim. Nice and easy, exhale, and - release!”

Nate released the breath he was holding and fired, hitting the target near the center. The camp’s bow wasn’t exactly what he was used to, but the shot did get some mild applause. After a second, Nate glanced up at Xavon who raised his hands and stepped aside. Nate dropped his stance, shook out his shoulders, and took a few deep breaths as he studied where all the targets were set up and their distance from him. Then, retrieving three more arrows from the equipment cart and placing them between his fingers, Nate looked back to his cabin mates. “Don’t try this at home.”

He tossed the bow into the air, caught it with his right hand, and fired with his left, hitting another target dead-center. In one fluid motion, he switched hands again, fired another two shots towards another target. Then swiping more arrows from the cart, he tucked and rolled. Up on one knee, he shot towards another target, farther away, and springing to his feet again, he fired the last two shots in quick succession towards the final and farthest target.

Panting slightly, Nate inspected his work. He’d hit every target at least once, all of them near the center if not dead on. Even his dad would've been proud of that. Nate slowly dropped his pose and turned around. Everyone gawked at him, including Xavon. Nate shook out his left hand with a shrug.

“It’s - uh - all in the wrist.”

One of the kids turned to Xavon quickly. “Can I try?”

“Me too! I want to do that!” one of the girls said, hopping up and down.

Pretty soon the whole cabin was demanding an archery lesson and those that weren’t pulling at Xavon and begging him were crowding around Nate and asking questions. He was almost instantly overwhelmed, but for the first time, it almost felt kind of nice. Xavon held up his hands to calm the kids down. “Well, I'm not sure I'm qualified to teach all of you, much less moves like that. Nate-”

He quickly rounded up the arrows as Xavon spoke and turned back when he heard his name. Obviously Xavon couldn’t handle teaching the whole cabin alone, but Nate couldn’t believe that he was implying that Nate should - he was actually asking him to - help. He took a deep breath, as if he were going to fire again, and dropped the arrows back into the quiver on the equipment cart.

Then, looking up at Xavon, he adjusted the headband on his forehead with a nervous grin. “How about you take the right-handed, I'll the the left-handed, and we'll meet in the middle?”

Xavon smiled, and Nate felt a rush of pride as his counselor nodded. “Sounds good to me, little brother.”

Together they lined the kids up, grouping them by which was their dominant hand, and worked side-by-side teaching the campers the proper form for firing. Nate promised that it took lots and lots of practice to be able to shoot as well as he did, but by the end of the lesson, he'd taught most everyone in the cabin how to at least hit the target. It felt great, teaching the others, and they were all so excited to listen.

And it didn’t end there. After that, the other kids wanted to know everything he knew, wanted to race to the Rec field, watch him make ridiculous dives off the high dive, and climb up into the tops of trees. He even gave Sharpie tattoos of Pokemon and cartoon characters that became a camp favorite even in the other cabins. And, with enough coaxing from Xavon, they even got Nate to sing a few of his favorite songs as Xavon played guitar, though Nate still adamantly refused to take part in any all camp songs.

It really was the time of his life, and from a distance, always watching proudly, Matthew beamed and told any kid that would listen, that was his little brother.


	10. Let the Wild Rumpus Start!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Things start picking up around here!

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Pam asked all but biting her nails as they took their places in the overflowing mess hall.

Nate snorted. “Oh God no, this is a terrible idea.” He was pretty sure he’d never had a _good_ idea in his entire life, but... “That's what makes it fun!” He winked at Pam who rolled her eyes back at him, and Nate decided that maybe the two of them could get along after all, in their own way.

Matt watched the crowd for signs of the kids. After teaching them to make the stink bombs in the empty arts and crafts tent, Suzie had promised that she had a sure-fire way to cause a distraction so that Kris could set up the stink bombs in the kitchen and set them off, only she hadn’t bothered to run it by Matt first before she dragged the other campers away to begin her dastardly plot. Nate spotted them first and tapped his brother’s shoulder, pointing them out.

Raleigh and Suzie stood in the food line with their trays in hand. Everything seemed normal enough, and Matt wondered if they hadn't just gotten distracted by the food. Just as they were getting their meal, however, Suzie nodded to Raleigh, who set his tray on the counter, adjusted his hat to flop over his eyes, and picked up his tray again.

To Nate, Matt whispered, “What are they doing?”

But at that moment, Raleigh bumped into Suzie’s back, spilling his milk and his meal of a burger and baked beans all down the back of her shirt, ketchup in her long, brown hair. Suzie rolled her eyes, her shoulders raising, and she turned on Raleigh like she actually might clobber him.

Smacking Raleigh’s tray out of his hands, it hit the floor with a loud smack. Everyone winced, and Suzie shouted, “I thought I told you to watch where you were going, pipsqueak! Now look what you did!” Even Nate was a little intimidated.

Pam, Nate, and Matt all gawked at the kids as the rest of the mess hall turned towards the kid in confusion, other campers craning to see the drama unfold and a few counselors getting nervous, wondering who should step in.

Meanwhile, Raleigh flinched back from Suzie and cowered behind his big, green hat. “I - I didn’t mean to, Suzie! I’m s-sorry-”

“Stop lying to me!” Suzie shouted, and the whole room filled up with the sound of it as everyone else hushed. She jabbed a finger into Raleigh’s face then, her expression deadly with rage. “You hate me! Everyone here hates me, I know it! You're always muttering about me, and I told you to stop!”

Clapping his hands together softly, Matt muttered to the others, “Well, I take it that’s our cue!” He motioned for the other two to scatter as they’d planned, and they all set off in different directions through the mess hall. As Matt turned, however, Aliya stepped into his path, seemingly unphased either by his surprise or the fight going on between the two campers.

“Oh, Matt! I've been looking for you!” She stopped Matt short, and he glanced towards Pam and Nate who stole nervous glances towards him. Aliya smiled sweetly up at Matt, straightening the collar of his flannel shirt as he turned his attention back to her. “Hey, if you have a minute, there was something I wanted to talk with you about. It won't take long!”

Nate tried to get Matt’s attention again. The kids were beginning to flounder since Suzie didn't actually want to have to punch Raleigh in the face, as much as she often pretended to. Other counselors were crowding around them, trying to stop the fight even as Suzie continued making a scene, and they didn’t have much time before it all fell apart. Kris stood with his button-covered backpack, shifting on his tiptoes as he tried to see the signal. Matt opened his mouth to object to Aliya, but she curled her fingers in the front of his flannel.

“I promise, it will only take a minute! Please?” She batted her eyelashes up at him, her soft pink lips pouting at the thought that he might refuse her, and suddenly Matt’s expression changed.

He leaned his head in and smiled down at her. “Well, if it will only take a minute...” With her hands still wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, Matt let Aliya pull him towards the door.

Pam gawked after them, but Nate waved it off - they didn’t have time for whatever nonsense his brother was getting into now - and headed for the kids himself. He had to elbow his way through a growing crowd to get to them, and Suzie stood in the center, looking a little worried that Matt hadn’t shown up to rescue her yet.

Nate finally broke through to the center of the commotion. “Hey, hey! Suzie! Raleigh, what's going on?”

The kids frowned up at him. This wasn’t the plan, but Nate shot them a pleading look as one of the other counselors tried to jump in. “It sounds like it was just a misunderstanding, they're fine. We can handle it.”

Nate was sure this counselor meant well, but they also sounded like a total douche. And that was saying something coming from Nate. He tried to get between the counselor and Suzie. “Well, I know these two, so I can-”

“Sir, thank you, but we're the counselors, here. We can handle it,” they said and wouldn’t let him get to Suzie who looked more and more panicked by the second.

Nate was just about to throw a punch - that would certainly cause a distraction. But then he caught sight of Kris in the corner of his vision. The kid returned to his friends, his backpack emptied of its smelly contents. As Nate scanned the room for Pam, he caught sight of Pokaski instead and felt his heart crawl its way into his throat.

“Gas leak!”

Everyone turned to Pam then, who stumbled out of the kitchen coughing and waving a hand in front of her face. The whole room seemed to freeze in time, and Pam threw her hands into the air. “There's a gas leak - something hit a pipe or something! Everyone clear out!”

It was then that everyone started to smell the stink bombs that had been triggered around the room. People began to murmur, and counselors rounded up their kids. Stock appeared at Nate’s side. “Gas leak? Where?”

Not one to pass up a chance to be a total ham, Nate pulled a disgusted face and gagged. “You don't smell that?! We need to get these kids out of here!” Nate turned to the counselors around him as they stared in shock. He grabbed the one that got between him and Suzie by the shoulder and shoved them in the direction of their campers. “Now!’

The counselors finally snapped into action then. They directed the kids towards the door, sweeping Suzie and the others along with them. She reached back for Nate as a female counselor took her arm. “Nate!”

It hurt to see the worry in her eyes, but Nate gave her a shaky smile and called out over the noise, “Just hang tight, kiddo. We'll get it figured out!” Nate glanced back to where he’d seen Pokaski a moment before, but suddenly the big guy was gone, which didn’t sit right with Nate.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on how screwed up his childhood bully was. Nate slipped past Stock as he lead the last of the kids and the mess hall staffers out the doors. Pam was waiting for him back in the kitchen. Once it emptied out, Nate gagged at the smell, for real that time, and ran to the nearest window to open it and give them some fresh air.

They were going to have to work fast.

Pam set the large ceramic bowl she'd retrieved from her car near one of the stove’s burners and pulled the last of the ingredients from her bag as Nate joined her. “Lordy! How are _those_ legal?” he asked, eyeing some of the more incriminating supplies and trying to catch Pam’s gaze.

She was staring intently at what she was doing, adding a few more things as she checked and rechecked the notes in her journal. “They probably aren’t. Now come on, make yourself useful.” Pam handed him a pestle, and Nate began to crush the ingredients in the bowl as Pam cut on the stove top flame, chanting the spell.

Nate drew out the map of the camp that they swiped from the Offices, smoothed it out onto the counter, and watched Pam reach into the bowl. She drew out a small handful of the coarse dust left behind from the ingredients all mixed together. She was about to drop it into the flame when Pokaski stormed in through the back door.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Pam and Nate spun on Pokaski, both of them using their bodies to shield the spellwork from him. But he was already fuming, whether he'd seen what they were doing or not, and Nate couldn’t help but kick the nearest cabinet and whine, “Oh, come on!” Pam turned to look at him, her mouth agape trying to think of any excuse for why they might be there. Nate just huffed, “This plan sucks!”

* * *

Giggling, Aliya led Matt to the lakeside, the little clearing just above the water where they could see the whole lake. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked and caught a glimpse of Matt over her shoulder.

From behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her to his chest. “We’re wasting time,” he said, leaning his cheek into her golden hair.

“But in a place like this-” Aliya craned her neck to catch his eyes again, but he was watching the water, the sunlight from overhead casting those sharp hazel eyes in shadow. She traced her fingers up his arm. “It feels like we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Well, you might.” His hold around her waist tightened a little. “But I'm on a strict schedule here. I've got little kiddos waiting for me.”

Aliya smiled sweetly, taking one of Matt’s hands and lacing her fingers with his. “Yes, aren't they perfect? I was afraid you wouldn't like them at first. But they've grown on you, I think.”

Matt shrugged as they swayed back and forth slightly. “I’ve come to… enjoy their presence.” He gently put a hand beneath her jaw and angled her face to look at him again. “They remind me of you at that age.”

She giggled and shook her head, leaning into his shoulder as she peered up at the wide blue sky above them. “Charmer.” Aliya turned in his arms to face him and rested her hands on his shoulders to smooth her fingers over the fabric of his shirt.

“No, I'm serious,” he told her, his voice gentle, his head tilted down towards hers. “Thirteen year-old Matt thought he was going to love you until the day he died. You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Witty, funny, spirited.” Aliya pressed closer, tilted her head up towards Matt’s as he leaned down to meet her, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he froze. “It's too bad you had to grow up. They're so much easier to feed on when they're young.”

Aliya’s doe-eyed look slowly turned into a frown as Matt leaned back, dropping his arms from around her. She opened her mouth to say something, but Matt slapped her across the face, his scowl splitting into a deranged grin.

* * *

Pokaski, big intelligent guy that he was, glared at Pam and Nate, at what they were doing, and took a few steps towards them. Nate held up his hands and slid in front of Pam because as much as Pokaski was bigger than Nate, he was even bigger than Pam.

“Listen, Pokaski, I know what this probably looks like-” Nate started.

“It looks like you're messing with an open flame in the middle of a gas leak!” Pokaski gestured to the oven where Pam still had the burner on.

Nate blinked. He couldn’t really be that dense. They were very obviously up to something that smelled of the occult, but then again, maybe the stench of rotten eggs had just overpowered the only brain cell Pokaski had left.

Rolling his eyes, Pokaski side-stepped Nate and Pam, shut off the burner, and turned back to the two of them. “Don't you know methane is highly flammable? Even down to a 5% open air concentration? And you're lighting stove tops?”

Pam and Nate both stared at him in shock.

“How do you know that?” Nate asked, growing more and more frustrated with each passing, unproductive moment.

Pokaski rolled his eyes and held up the tool kit that he perpetually carried around with him. “I'm an electrician! It's my job to know these things!”

“You’re an electrician?” Nate asked as if Pokaski had just told him he believed the Earth was really flat. Then to himself, Nate muttered, “Did I know that?”

Pam huffed, perturbed by both boneheads and wishing she couldn’t have found some other hunters to help her - ones with fewer emotional issues and better people skills, preferably. “We don’t have time for this!” She shoved Nate aside with one arm, gestured to Pokaski with the other, and spat out a few words of Latin that Nate knew were bad news because they made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Pokaski’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he dropped like a huge sack of potatoes right onto the linoleum. Nate felt his heart leap up into his throat because sure, maybe he didn’t like the guy and he figured Pokaski was a burger short of a combo meal, but he didn’t want him dead either. “What the hell?”

Without so much as an eyelash out of place, Pam lit the stove again and went back to work on the spell. Only when Nate seized her wrist tightly and pulled her attention away from it did she look up at him and hiss, “Oh, he's fine, just asleep, but he won't stay that way for long. So we have to hurry and finish this!”

She twisted her wrist free of his grasp, scooped up some of the dust from the ceramic bowl, and tossed it into the fire. Crackling and smelling vaguely of oranges, lavender, and nacho cheese, the flame turned a brilliant cobalt blue and shifted back and forth unnaturally, like it couldn't be bothered to stay in one place. Pam took the map from the counter and lit one corner of it with the blue fire. Once the paper caught, she dropped it onto the tile at their feet and watched.

Blue tongues of fire crawled across the surface of the map from one corner until it engulfed the entire paper but without burning it up, and just as quickly as the flames appeared, they extinguished themselves, leaving only a few small embers still flickering faintly on different areas of the map.

Nate and Pam knelt on either side of it. “That’s the Campfire Squares,” Nate said and pointed to one of the tiny flames near the center of the map.

“It must be the spell, some object in that area.” Then Pam moved her purple, manicured nail to another area of the map. “The other one is near the lake?”

Nate watched her face. “Wait, ‘must be’?”

Twisting one of the silver rings she wore on her fingers around and around, Pam bit her lip and frowned down at the map. “Do you know how often I've had to track down alchemy magic this ancient and obscure?” She glared quickly up at Nate, shrugging her shoulders. “I've never used this before! Sue me!”

Nate rolled his eyes. Now he remembered why he disliked her so much.

She reminded Nate of himself.

“Well, we know at least one of those is the item, the other is Matt.” Pam continued twisting her ring, like something was wrong. She pointed to a third flame. "This is the kitchen, so that's us." 

Finally it dawned on Nate. “What about the poor possessed fool?”

“Unless it's one of us, that's all there is.” Pam massaged her temples and concentrated. She needed to think of this from all angles, because if they missed so much as one little detail, left even a hair out of place, Afton won. However he was cheating death, whatever his secret was, he’d use it to come back again. And Pam was ready to put this corpse in his grave for good, whatever it took. “Alright. Where do we go first?”

Nate stared at the map and bit down on the knuckle of his thumb. He had the distinct feeling that they were running out of time. Call it intuition or the still-pulsing pain in his side, he knew Afton was going to make a move, soon, and that meant a bunch of kids were at risk. He glimpsed Pam’s worried gaze and frowned. “Have I mentioned that I hate this plan?”


	11. Courage, Dear Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, have a good weekend! :)

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

Sprinting from the mess hall, Pam and Nate headed for the place on the map where one of the embers glowed like a beacon. Everyone in the camp seemed to be gathered around the fire pits, right around whatever cursed object Afton was using to keep himself alive, and if they were ever going to find it without raising a ton of questions, they’d have to get everyone to clear out and fast. As the two of them rushed into the clearing, everyone turned to look at them. Nate froze.

But Pam stepped past him, a bright smile already on her face as she raised her hands. “Good news, everyone! There was no gas leak.” Murmurs rippled through the crowd, all the counselors looking for someone to tell them what to do next. Pam maintained her poise with ease. “It was, however, a few isolated acts of harmless pranks that are being dealt with as we speak. You are free to return to the mess hall and continue your meal!”

No one moved. Either they were skeptical or still confused or both, but Nate felt like there were ants crawling beneath his skin. They had to get them out of there so they could find that spell.

So, when no one moved, he stepped forward beside Pam. “Stock said he'd hand out ice cream to the first three cabins to make up for the smell!” That got everyone moving. Free ice cream just had that effect on people. Once the bonfire area was cleared, Nate pulled Pam aside. “Okay, so where’s this cursed item of yours?”

Pam turned in a circle, scanning the area, everything that she could see. “It’s here somewhere! It has to be!”

Something new, it would’ve been something new. Nate’s eyes wandered the cabins, the fire pits, the trails leading away from the center of camp. Nothing in this place was newer than a couple decades, except…

“The light poles, the new lights!” Nate pointed towards them, half a dozen scattered around the area. They ran to a cluster of them and began to inspect what they could see.

Pam twisted her fingers in her short, black hair. “I saw a lot of receipts in the office for the electrical equipment, and some steel framing, but I didn't imagine it would be for these.” It wasn’t exactly on-brand for Freddy’s. Of all the things - it just didn’t make sense.

Nate knocked his knuckles against the metal. “These are the only things the EMF reacted to, and I thought it was just because they were working, electrical, you know, but half the camp is still on gas.” He spent another moment inspecting the poles, each one a lattice-work of steel like a narrow ladder all the way to the top where rows of lights were mounted and angled to shine all around the camp.

He needed to find the mark, the one that he saw on Springtrap, and it only made sense that it would be up high where no one would notice it. So Nate readied himself, took a deep breath, and reached forward to start climbing. But the moment he raised his hands over his head, his side lit on fire with pain.

“Gah!” Nate’s shoulder hit the light pole, and he slid down a few inches, catching himself before he hit the ground. He gasped for breath as his head spun like a top.

Pam hovered in the corner of his vision. “Nate? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t climb these,” Nate said without explaining. He brushed a hand over his forehead which was suddenly damp with cold sweat. Those stitches were starting to become a real problem. “But it has to be these, at least one of them. The mark must be somewhere near the top.”

Flapping her hands, Pam paced back and forth a few steps, her boots crunching in the dead leaves and dry pine needles. “Well, how did Afton burn a sigil into steel that was going to be fitted together for light poles?”

“Maybe he didn’t,” Nate panted, clutching his side. He was just getting his head to level out as he put a few things together. “Maybe he got his henchman to do that…”

Pam stopped pacing. “Well, who is that?”

* * *

Water splashed over Pokaski’s face, and he sputtered awake with a cough. His eyes rolled around the room until they settled onto the face of Nathan Smith. The reaction was instantaneous. He snarled like a bulldog.

“What the-?!”

“Take it easy, man,” Nate urged him. He raised his hands, kept his voice low.

Pokaski blinked the water from his eyes and jerked his arms to lash out at Nate only to realize that his wrists were tied behind his back. He sat in one of the back rooms of the kitchen, and if he got too loud, Stock would come running. And - again - that would definitely land them in a prison or, better yet, a psych ward. Needless to say, they needed to keep him calm.

“What the hell?!” Pokaski snapped, bucking and kicking and trying to get free.

“Hey! I said take it easy!” Nate hissed and glanced towards the closed door behind them. “I know your head is probably jumbled, but just relax, man. Tell me who the target is.”

Pokaski stared at him long and hard then before he narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “What are you talking about? Untie me!”

Nate motioned with his hands for Pokaski to calm down, shushing the big guy and wishing, not for the first time, that he was literally anywhere else besides this stupid camp. “Not until we get Afton out of you! Now who is the target? Who has he told you to grab for him?”

Suddenly Pokaski’s face changed. His rage melted away into fear, and he searched Nate’s face. “G-grab? Wait, is someone coming after these kids? Who?”

Whatever reaction Nate expected, he hadn’t figured on this.

But Pokaski twisted even harder at the ropes tying his hands behind his back, eyes wide. “Listen, I'll give you whatever you want, but I got a little sister here, man, just don't hurt her! I-I'll do anything, I swear!”

The static was back, crawling beneath Nate’s skin, inside his skull. “Little sister?” He knelt down in front of Pokaski and searched deep in his eyes. “You ever heard the name ‘William Afton’?”

Pokaski shook his head emphatically, eyes full of very genuine fear, and Nate looked away. Hawkins had practically kissed Matt’s feet back in Caliente. He never denied for a moment what his intentions were. If Pokaski were the guy they were looking for, Nate doubted he’d have any qualms with singing Afton’s praises. That’s what Afton lived for, after all. Faithful little servants grovelling at his feet.

“Should I know him?” Pokaski asked, still twitching, pulling at his restraints which Nate started to feel a little guilty about. “Is that who I need to talk to? Please, man, my sister, she’s my responsibility. I can’t let anything happen to her!”

Nate looked back to him. “You said you’re an electrician, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you done anything with those big light poles near the fire pits?”

Pokaski shook his head again, his sweat-damp hair falling down in his eyes. “No, no, those weren't me. They were here before I got here. I-I'm a recent hire, after the other guy quit.”

“Who’s in charge of their installation then?” Nate asked. Someone at this camp had to be under Afton’s influence, someone connected to the new equipment, who could get near it without anyone asking questions and add the mark needed for the spell. Nate watched Pokaski’s face as he thought, willing him to think faster.

Finally, Pokaski sighed and said, “I-I don't know. I think... they're under ‘developmental technologies’ or something?”

A flash of golden hair and bright smiles, doe-eyed looks at his brother since they arrived - Nate knew exactly who Pokaski was referring to, and suddenly it all made sense. And Nate was not happy about it.

* * *

Nate sprinted towards the lake, knowing it was the last place the map had shown Matt to be.

He’d let him go. He’d let him walk out with Aliya, just because he thought his brother was being stupid - again. For maybe the thousandth time, Matt and everyone else was in trouble because Nate had let his stupid emotions get in the way. John was right.

Down the path ahead of him, something flickered. Three hallucinations at once, smudges of purple, green, and blue, distorted, over-saturated, over-layed with static. Nate froze a moment as he recognized their faces - Matt’s cabin. The kids were in trouble.

Charlie appeared beside them, her chest heaving. She was a little more solid than she had been before, but even though her mouth moved, Nate couldn’t hear her speak. She looked so tired, so hollow. One hand reached out, pointing in the direction of the Offices. Nate nodded, "I got it, I got it, hang in there," and he followed.

The hallucinations shimmered and faded behind him.

As Nate spied the back door to the Offices and crept up the steps to the porch, the purple, green, and blue smudges hovering near the doorway, Nate thought he heard voices inside.

* * *

Huddled on the other side of the wall, the three kids watched in horror as Matt and Aliya fought in another room of the office building, Aliya tied down to one of the office chairs. As the shouting reached a fever pitch, Matt slapped Aliya hard across the face again, and her head slumped to the side, hair falling over her face. Raleigh whimpered and moved his bony little body to hide behind Kris who had planted himself between the smaller kid and the door where they hid beneath a table under the window.

They both looked across the room to Suzie where she hid behind the door. A few boxes of office supplies were piled up high, partially hiding her from view, and she slowly rose a few inches to peak through the glass panel in the wall to the other room, before disappearing again quickly at the sight of Matthew. Raleigh whimpered again, trembling and crying big tears that left round stains on Kris' t-shirt. Suzie shot him a warning glare as Kris turned, pulled the kid tight against him, and covered his mouth with one hand.

They all three held their breath as they heard footsteps come towards them.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Matt pushed open the door to the room, further hiding Suzie from view. His eyes scanned the small space, looking for the campers with a wicked grin on his face. Suzie watched in horror as he drew closer and closer to the boys until suddenly she stood from her hiding place, toppling one of the cardboard boxes.

Matt spun to look at her. “Well, don’t you look scrumptious?” Suzie set her shoulders and gripped her hands into fists at her sides. Matt just made a pouting face, his head tilting to the side as he observed her bravery. “Aw, you’re adorable!”

He stalked towards her, his delighted look darkening. “You think I’m scared of you?” Leaning closer to her, Matt smirked at the way she trembled and tried oh so desperately to hide it.

But rather than let herself be intimidated, Suzie swung her fist as hard as she could and punched Matt in the face as soon as he was close enough. He spun to the side and staggered back a step in shock. Suzie looked towards the boys, shouting, “Guys! Run!”

She watched Kris scramble out from underneath the table and dash for the door, but Matt grabbed her chin harshly and turned her face towards his again. He snarled at her. “You little-” Then he raised a hand to slap her, and Suzie flinched in anticipation.

Only the hand wavered, shook, like something invisible was holding it back.

Matt’s mind filled with flashes of a memory: John Smith, smelling of beer, standing over his son, hitting Nate across the face because he’d dared to talk back, a memory of the very moment that Matthew had promised himself he’d never, ever hit a child as long as he lived.

And even William Afton himself couldn’t overpower that much hatred and determination.

Seeing the hesitation in Matt’s features, Suzie summoned all her strength and shoved as hard as she could at Matt’s chest. He toppled to the ground with a groan of pain, a migraine flaring behind his eyes. Suzie snapped her head back towards the table where Raleigh still cowered in terror.

“Go-go! Ralsei, run!"

Finally, the kid gathered his courage and sprinted for the door. As soon as he was gone, Suzie backed away from Matt, snagged Kris’ backpack from the floor, and followed the two boys down the hallway and out the backdoor of the Offices.

They all three ran smack into Nate.

“Kids!”

He knelt down as they collectively threw their arms around his neck, and he wrapped them all in a tight hug. They were shivering in fear, but from what he could tell, they weren’t harmed. Nate sighed in relief and gave them all a tight squeeze. Then Raleigh drew back, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “He-he's in the office! He hurt Miss Aliya!”

Peering down the hall, Nate could just make out a clump of blonde hair through window of one of the offices. His stomach squeezed. First things first, the kids. “Okay, okay, here-” Nate took Raleigh’s hand and pressed his keys - which he dug out of his pocket - into it. “Go to the parking lot, find my car - it's gold and black - and get in it. Lock the doors. Don't let anyone in!”

He reached up and took the hex bag from around his neck, putting it around Kris' neck instead. “And don’t lose this, you hear me? It's for keeping bad things away.” Kris nodded, his dark hair bouncing around his head. Nate looked up at Suzie next. “You’re in charge. Don’t let them out of your sight.”

Suzie’s eyes were rimmed in tears, but she grit her teeth, hugged Nate one more time, and took the boys by the hand, pulling them out of the building after her. Nate watched them go for a few moments - just until they disappeared into the trees. Then he turned and spotted Matt leaned against one of the desks and clutching his head.

Spinning the silver blade in his hand, Nate stalked closer until he stood in the hall just outside the door. He looked down at Aliya. She was slumped in a chair, her hands tied somewhere behind her, but she was breathing. So he stepped slowly closer to Matt and gripped his knife in front of him.

“So what now, Afton? You just going to hide in my brother forever?”

Slowly Matthew turned to him, his mouth open, his eyes wide - and clear. Nate froze in shock. It wasn’t Afton looking back at him at all. Matt blinked at his little brother in confusion, coming closer in shaking, staggering steps.

“Nate - what are you talking about?”


	12. Do You Know that You are Very Strong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe Camp is almost over :( I've been looking forward to this episode for a long time, and we're in the final stretch. Hope it's a good one.

Camp Wannapee   
May, 2000

The day was sweltering, the hottest of the summer so far, and while most of the camp was down at the lake for an extended water day, Nate and a few of his buddies played foursquare beneath the shade of some oak trees instead. Matt spied them across the clearing and jogged over, watching Nate play. His kid brother had lightning quick reflexes from hours of training, and he could beat even some of the older boys at the game. And he wasn't above some trickery and playful antics when he was in a tight spot either, finding clever ways to distract the others at just the right moment, but he had a knack to keep them all laughing, too.

Finally drawing closer, Matt called, “Heya, Mr. Big Man At Camp!”

Nate turned his head just a bit, enough to catch sight of Matt watching him but not enough to lose focus on the game, and he grinned. “Where you been, pimpleface?” The boys all laughed at the nickname. Matt soured a little but managed to keep up his smile.

“Where've I been? I've been in your shadow, bud.” He sat down on the knee-high plastic barrier around the foursquare area and watched as the game went on despite their conversation. “You're rocking this whole camping thing, like I knew you would.”

Nate’s ears burned a little. Of course, this was all still a competition to Matt, and now the only reason he had his big brother’s attention again was because he might be edging in on Matthew’s sparkling reputation around camp. Suddenly Nate smacked the ball so hard it went sailing out of the ring, and the other boys all groaned in disappointment. None of them wanted to go chase it down in the heat as it rolled past their cover of trees.

Without looking at Matt, Nate hopped the fence and ran over to the water fountains. Matt followed him a few paces behind, watching as Nate splashed cold water on his face and neck before taking a few sips.

Matt stuck his finger in his brother’s ear, and Nate flicked water at him. “So, how about I finally take you off that high-dive?” Matt asked and grinned as Nate continued to splash him between gulps of water.

Nate looked up excitedly. It was hot as Hades, and he would’ve liked to hang out with Matt, sure. But then he glanced back at his friends. Someone had retrieved the ball, and they were waiting on him to get started again. He glanced back up at Matt. “Sorry, I’m kind of in a tournament right now.”

“A tournament?” Matt scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “You guys take foursquare very seriously.” Surely it had to be a joke, but Nate just shrugged, shook some of the sweat from his hair, and then headed back in the direction of the court. Matt blinked and started after him. “Wait, really? You’re not coming?”

Nate shrugged at him, still walking backwards in the direction of the court as the sun shone down hot on his black hair. He was more grateful than ever for Xavon’s headband to hold his bangs back from his face a little. “I just said I'm doing something. But I can go swimming after this if you want to wait.”

Matt’s brow wrinkled up, and he reached to wipe sweat from the back of his neck. “Well, me and some others were going to go canoeing later, when it's not so hot out.”

“Then have fun,” Nate said and turned to hop the fence back into the foursquare court. He couldn’t see the problem, but Matt seemed almost insulted. Only he hadn’t been half as interested in spending time with Nate before he’d made a name for himself around camp. So maybe it gave Nate some level of satisfaction to turn his brother down, see how it felt to him to be ignored for a change, even if Nate knew that he couldn't entirely blame Matt.

Just as Nate was about to join the game again, Matt caught his arm, drawing him up short. “Nate, dude, come on. I've been looking forward to this all week. I promised my cabin, and they really want to meet you.”

Slowly Nate tugged his arm away as his other friends started to talk behind his back. “‘Meet me’?” He grinned, trying to make light of it even though Matt was all but scowling by then. “I’m right here. There’s no stopping them.”

Matt scoffed. “Yeah, but it’s a free day.”

“Yeah, and I’m in a foursquare tournament.” Nate couldn’t see why it mattered so much to Matt. He already had all the friends that he could want. Nate finally had friends like he wanted. Nate grinned and someone tossed him the ball. He knew they had to be getting impatient to start again. “Like I said, maybe later, man.”

“Oh, now it's ‘maybe later’?” Matt pulled back almost like he’d been struck, and Nate frowned. “Well I'm sorry, Mr. Celebrity, I guess next time I'll go through your secretary first.” He couldn’t believe that Nate, his little brother who all but clung to the back of his shirt any time they were in public, wouldn’t take five minutes for him now. So Matt spun on his heel and stalked away.

Nate’s jaw dropped, and he tossed the ball back, hopping the fence in one clean motion to catch up with his brother. “Matt, I - I want to, I just - my friends kinda need me right now.”

Matt spun on him fast, and it made Nate jump it was so sudden. But if Matt noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He just glowered and gripped his hands into fists like John would do sometimes when he was trying to keep himself from doing something else with his hands. And maybe Matt didn’t mean it that way, but Nate saw the similarities anyway.

It made him feel sick and cold inside despite the heat.

“No, no, go play with your friends,” Matt shouted at him, loud enough for all the boys to hear. “It's good practice for when you're all alone in middle school next year and I'm in high school. But hey, maybe you'll be able to impress everyone with how well you can climb a tree again, I'm sure that will carry you for the rest of your life.”

Nate’s whole face burned, and he figured it didn’t have anything to do with the sun. When he didn’t make any effort to argue, Matt turned away again, and that time, Nate let him go. One of the other boys from the foursquare ring appeared at Nate’s side. He rested a hand on the smaller boy’s back. “Hey, Nate, it's okay, we can do this another time -”

But Nate shoved him away and shouldered past.

“Don’t touch me.”

After his fight with Matt, Nate stormed off in the direction of his cabin where it would be cool and quiet and dark, and he could clear his head and maybe just hide for a few hours before anyone thought to look for him. As he stalked through the cabins, Nate saw another boy, a few years older than him, glaring at Nate from the porch of another cabin.

Maybe if it hadn't been so hot outside, it wouldn't have been as easy to lose his temper. Maybe if Nate had picked up his pace he could’ve made it to his cabin before the kid jumped down off the porch. Or maybe if he’d just turned around and gone back the other boys would’ve scared the kid off. But Nate didn’t do either of those things, and it was still blistering beneath the sunlight. So he strode forward just as he had been until the bigger kid came to stand in his path, Cole Pokaski, one of the bullies Matt had warned Nate about their first week of camp.

“Where’s your posse, Popular?” the kid asked. He was heads taller than Nate, and just all around bigger, too.

No one else was around to hear Nate hiss, “Leave me alone, Pokaski.”

He tried to shoulder past, but Pokaski darted after him. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” He grabbed Nate and spun him around, keeping a tight grip on the smaller boy’s arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Nate glared up at him. But he didn’t run.

Pokaski just grinned, sinister and amused by the runt. “Oh what, like this?” He shoved Nate back a few steps, but Nate still didn’t run. “Or like this?” Shove. “Or this?” He shoved again until Nate’s back hit one of the looming pine trees. Even cornered as he was, he stared Cole down with his teeth gritted tight.

“What are you going to do?” Pokaski demanded, giving Nate another shove even though he wasn’t going anywhere. The back of Nate’s head smacked against the bark, and he could feel the skin scrape against the wood. “Are you going to shoot me with your bow and arrow?”

Nate unclenched his jaw. “No, I’m not going to fight you.” But he wasn’t going to run either. If his dad ever found out… “I just want to be left alone.” But did he, really? Or had he walked right into a fight because he was itching to let off some steam, or just push someone else as close to the edge as he felt in that moment? Pokaski was maybe just mean enough and stupid enough. It wouldn’t take a lot of pushing.

Pokaski was in his face, then, mistaking Nate’s pause as a show of fear. “Finally crack under the pressure?” Spit flew from Pokaski’s mouth against Nate’s face, but he didn’t budge an inch. “Yeah, it's not so easy being top dog, is it?”

Everything always had to be a competition. Who’s the best at archery, at high-diving, at rock-climbing? Who gets the most attention? How good do you have to be for people to like you? Well, Nate was sick of it.

He smirked up at Pokaski, all but daring him to throw a punch. “And how would you know?”

Pokaski swung at him, alright. He hit Nate so hard in the jaw that the kid fell to the ground in a daze, head spinning and teeth rattling in his skull. “Because I used to be top dog until your stupid brother came along!” He spat down at Nate who rolled over onto his back. “And now I've got to put up with his squirmy little brother too?!”

Nate pushed himself up, still glaring holes in Pokaski’s head. But this time when Pokaski swung again to knock Nate down, the kid deflected the move and instead tossed Pokaski onto his ugly face. Nate staggered back a few steps and watched Pokaski rise to his feet, as spitting mad as a bull. He knew that look. Cole was seeing red, and he only had one target to vent that kind of blinding anger.

_Then_ Nate decided to run.

He didn’t make it very far, though. Nate was smaller and faster, but Pokaski had all the advantage of size. He threw Nate to the ground, and pine needles bit hard into Nate’s palms and his right cheek. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment, he struggled to breathe before Pokaski kicked him hard in the side. Blinking tears from his eyes, Nate blocked the next kick, throwing Pokaski off balance and scrambling to his feet.

Pokaski chased him down again, dragged him into the dirt, and started pounding on him with big, meaty fists. Nate grabbed pine needles, dirt, and stones - whatever he could get his hands on - and threw them at Pokaski’s face, and when he flinched back, Nate bucked hard enough to throw Cole off of him. Only this time, when he got to his feet, he turned to face the bull-headed kid.

Cole wiped the dirt from his eyes and glared at Nate like he’d rip him apart given half the chance, and something familiar and simple and dangerous burned in Nate’s chest. Because he’d rip Pokaski apart, too, given even less.

“Boys?”

They both turned to see Xavon staring at them, frozen in shock. A few more campers stood behind him in their bathing suits with beach towels tucked under their arms, on their way to the lake. Everyone stared at the two boys covered in dirt and pine needles and generally looking very guilty. Xavon left the other campers behind and cleared the distance between himself and the boys in a blink. “Is everything alright here?”

Nate dropped his eyes, his face burning again and his chest twisting up in fear. “Yes, sir. We tripped over each other.” Though his bleeding lip would've said otherwise.

Pokaski glared at him, and Xavon took that as a cue to step between the two boys before they “tripped over each other” again. “Alright, alright. Cole, go find your cabin leader. Nate, you come with me.”

A flash of white, hot panic shot through Nate’s veins, and he looked up quickly. “I was going-”

“Come with me!” Xavon said, the first time he’d raised his voice at Nate since he’d gotten there, and it didn’t help the terror that Nate felt down to his core. Pokaski glared at them both as Nate trudged along behind Xavon. Once everyone else had cleared out, Xavon turned to look down at Nate. “I thought you were doing better, little man. What made you lose it with Cole back there?”

Nate kept his trap shut. The last thing he wanted was to give Xavon another reason to hate him, another reason to punish him or call Mary or his _dad_ or... But Xavon just knelt down in front of him and met Nate’s gaze with a worried look. “Come on, kiddo. I thought we could talk.”

Slowly, Nate relaxed his muscles and let his hands fall limp at his sides. “You’re not mad?”

Xavon studied Nate’s eyes closely. He knew that Nate wasn’t a bad kid, so there had to be a reason that he was acting out again. “No, I’m not mad, Nate. I just want to understand. I want to hear your side of the story, that’s all.” He tilted his head to the side and straightened the headband he’d given Nate from where it’d been knocked askew in the tussle with Pokaski. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Nate pursed his lips tight together. His side of the story? It had never made much of a difference before, but he figured, just this once, for Xavon’s sake, he’d play along. Nate nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

Matt trudged back towards the lake alone, his feet thumping against the pine needle trail to the tune of kids laughing beyond the trees as they splashed one another, swam, and generally enjoyed the water on their free day. Aliya sat at the edge of the pier that jutted out a few yards into the water, her back to Matthew as he approached. When she heard his footsteps falling along the wood, she looked back over her shoulder and smiled up at him.

But he didn’t return the smile, and she could guess why. “Where’s Nate?”

“He’s not coming.” Matt dropped onto the pier next to her, swinging his legs out over the water, the toes of his flipflops just grazing the surface below. “He’s too popular.”

Squeezing water from her hair, Aliya nodded in understanding. Matt had been going on and on about his little brother since they’d gotten to camp, bragged about how cool he was and all the awesome things he could do. But now Matt was just sour, sulking in the oppressive heat. So Aliya punched him in the arm and grinned when he scowled at her.

“Hey, let’s do something instead of just sitting here getting sunburned!”

“Like what?” Matt grumbled, still kicking his feet.

Aliya scrunched up her face in thought for a moment and glanced around. Her gaze finally lit on a couple of kids taking the plunge into the lake from far overhead, and her grin returned. “What about the high-dive?”

“You’re terrified of the high-dive,” Matt said, and she flicked water from her hair into his face as he laughed. “What? You are!”

“Fine then, we’ll do something else!” Aliya hopped to her feet and offered a hand to help Matt up. When she’d pulled him to his feet, Aliya kept a hold on Matt’s hand and led him around past the counselors at watch and into the woods.

Eventually they broke out of the woods again into the clearing where the trail to the zipline began and the rock wall stood high over the low ropes obstacle courses. Matt smirked at Aliya, jogging ahead of her towards the wall and turning his head to watch her catch up. “Rock-climbing? Really? The thing I'm best at?”

Aliya shrugged her shoulders and gestured towards the wall. “Teach me.”

Matt paused. “What?”

Aliya tucked her hands behind her back, grinning brightly and rocking back and forth on her feet. “Teach me!”

“How to rock-climb?” Matt asked and looked back at the wall, unsure if he could exactly explain the process. He’d never really tried to teach anyone anything before, at least other than Nate, and Nate was always a pretty quick study, especially when it came to things that he was interested in. But teaching Aliya - that was different. Instead, Matt just shrugged at her. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”

Aliya grabbed one of the harnesses from the rack and started buckling herself into it as Matt did the same. “You’re just saying that because you’re so good,” she teased and undid one of Matt’s buckles.

He huffed at her and redid the buckle, batting her hand away before hooking himself to the safety wire and climbing up a few steps as he spoke. “No, it's really not hard. It's just about - being strategic and - thinking on your - feet.” He wiggled one of his feet down at her for emphasis. “Literally!”

Then he glanced back down at her to see Aliya smiling up at him. Facing the wall again, Matt hoped that she couldn’t see him blushing from where she was, or maybe she would think it was just from the heat. Instead, he focused his efforts on climbing to the top and ringing one of the bells fixed to the wall. Once he was sure that the blush had faded from his face and neck, Matt pushed off from the wall and let the wire carry him safely back to the ground.

Aliya approached the wall and tentatively touched one of the hand-holds at eye-level. Her eyes wandered up the path that Matt had taken to the top, trying to retrace his steps. “So, you plan your path first?”

Matt shrugged, looking everywhere except at Aliya. “It’s a mix. Planning and improvising - you've got to kind of do them at the same time.” With a nod, Aliya jumped up and grabbed the hand-holds she could reach, her feet settling eventually before she paused a moment. Matt gawked up at her. “Whoa! Yeah, something like that.”

He continued to instruct her as she climbed. “Now, try to keep your hands close so you don't strain too much. Uh, there, put your right hand on that purple grip. That's right! You've got to move your feet though.” Then Matt noticed with a sinking feeling in his gut that Aliya hadn’t connected her harness to one of the safety lines, and the longer she was stuck, her arms started to tremble slightly.

Suddenly, her grip on the wall failed, and she started to fall. Matt yelped and positioned himself to catch her. Together they tumbled to the boiling hot tarmac, Aliya landing on top of Matt, a little scraped-up but no worse for wear. Matt smiled up at her, his golden hair tossed into his eyes. “Well, not half bad for your first time, but maybe for your next try, let's remember to connect to the safety line.”

They both sat up, Aliya scooting a few inches away and blushing. Matt looked back up at the wall and remembered the dozens of times he’d climbed it since he’d come to camp, and in a few days, he’d probably never have the chance to see it again unless he came back as a counselor. But his last summer hadn’t been all bad.

Matt glanced over at Aliya and found that she’d been staring at him. Blushing, they both looked away. Aliya wrapped her arms around her knees, drew them to her chest, and sighed up at the wide blue sky overhead. “You know, I think you're the first person since I've been coming here that treats me like a friend. Everyone else thinks I'm royalty or all uptight because of my accent or something.”

“I - I just think you're fun to hang out with. And spunky, and smart.” Matt peeked at her from the corner of his eyes and saw she was still watching the clouds pass overhead. He smiled to himself. “Nate would say you're like a Legendary Pokemon, or something.”

Aliya turned her head and caught his gaze, and this time, Matt couldn’t look away. “What would you say I’m like?”

Matt gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and kissed her. Drawing back, he felt a little light-headed, but at least Aliya was smiling at him - man, what a smile, too - instead of gagging and running for the hills. In fact, she smiled so much that she giggled, and she kissed him again - again! Matt thought he was going to explode into a bunch of pink sparkles like a firework.

Then she smacked a hand on his shoulder and hopped to her feet again, hands on her hips as she stared up at the climbing wall like it was Everest and she was going to conquer it. “I haven't reached the top yet, Professor. But I'm going to before the day is done.”

“Or before we get caught,” Matt reminded her, his eyebrows dancing playfully.

He got to his feet and continued to coach her as she climbed, the sun shining in her hair and a wonderful golden feeling in his chest like he was on top of the world, this time with her harness safely attached, of course.

* * *

By the time Matt and Aliya had snuck back to the main area of camp, most everyone had returned from the lake, and though the sun had not yet begun to set, everyone laid around in hammocks or on the picnic tables and benches, enjoying a lazy afternoon. As Matt and Aliya passed by, Xavon called out, “Matt!”

He jogged to catch up with them as they turned, and realizing who Matt had been with, he smiled. “Oh, hello, Aliya.” Xavon glanced at Matt who was already blushing.

“Hi, Xavon,” Aliya said with a grin.

“Matt, can I talk to you?” Xavon asked, jerking his head in the direction of his cabin’s front porch.

With a frown, Matt glanced between him and Aliya. “Sure.”

“See you at dinner?” Aliya asked as she began to back away from the two guys, her hands once again folded neatly behind her back.

Grinning and blushing even deeper, Matt nodded. “Sure!” He watched her turn and scamper away to find some of the other girls from their cabin before Matt turned back to Xavon, expecting to be scolded for sneaking away. Instead, Xavon seemed to be solemn for another reason. Matt frowned again as he realized that this might have something to do with his fight with Nate earlier.

“What’s up?”

Shaking his head, Xavon sighed, and Matt knew he was right.

They sat next to each other on one of the front porch benches, Matt watching a line of ants crawl across the concrete and feeling even lower than them. He hadn’t meant to push Nate like that, especially not to the point that he got into a fight with another kid. He glanced up at Xavon. Guilt burned in his face and his chest.

“I - I had no idea. He seemed so happy, you know? Popular?”

Xavon adjusted his headband on his forehead a little and sighed again. “Well, he sure has gotten popular, but I wouldn't say that makes him happy.”

Matt gripped the edge of the bench until he was sure he’d get a splinter from it. “Why not? What’s wrong?”

Xavon watched Matt for a long moment and wondered if he knew just how much his little brother needed him. “He misses his brother, maybe more than you realize. Nate’s got a lot of anxiety.”

“Anxiety?” Matt wiped the palms of his hands onto his shorts. “Like fears?”

“Exactly.” Xavon nodded. “And social ones. He's scared of trying to make new friends.” Terrified, really, if Xavon had to be honest, and apart from that, the kid had a separation complex about a mile wide, not that Xavon blamed Matthew for that. Being on his own there at camp, with nothing but perfect strangers surrounding him, Nate had done the only reasonable thing and hid, and while Xavon had helped him to get to know his fellow campers better, he still couldn't make Nate feel safe around them, not like he could around his brother.

A long pause hung heavily in the air, and Matt’s brow wrinkled up as he struggled to understand. “But why? He gets along with my friends just fine.”

“He's not scared of having friends,” Xavon explained slowly and tried to choose his words carefully. “He's scared of being abandoned by them. Being abandoned by people he cares about.” It was frowned upon to ask the kids about their home-life, but everything that Nate had said about feeling like a freak, his fears and anxieties, all the interesting skills the kid had, Xavon was worried about Nate. “Do you know why that is?”

By the frown that crossed Matt’s face, Xavon figured he was right to be worried, too.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Matt felt his heart sink low into his stomach then. “Do you think…” He looked up at Xavon, eyes wide. “That's exactly what I did to him, isn't it?”

Xavon shrugged and patted Matt’s back. “I think you can figure that - and the rest - out for yourself.” He was a smart kid, maybe the smartest Xavon had ever met, and he believed that Matt cared for Nate, too. If anyone could help that little guy, it was going to be his big brother.

And when Matt nodded, Xavon smiled. He was sure of it.


	13. Come Little Children, I'll Take Thee Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh? Is this it? The conversation you've all been waiting for??

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

The kids sprinted from the Offices and past the fire pits at the center of camp. Pam spotted them as they fled, and - recognizing that they were Matt's campers - chased after them.

“Kids! Kids!” They froze and turned towards her, Suzie putting up her fists like she was expecting to have to fight off another psycho adult. But Pam just knelt down to their level and glanced back the way that they’d come. “What's going on? Where’s Matt?”

Suzie dropped her fists slowly and stepped in front of the boys. She was in charge, and if Pam did go crazy all of a sudden, it was her job to get the other two away. But at least for the moment, it looked like Pam wasn't going to be a threat. “He’s in the office with Nate and Aliya.”

Raleigh, tears streaking down his cheeks still, pulled the rim of his hat down over his ears again. “He tied Miss Aliya to a chair and almost hit Suzie!”

Pam’s jaw dropped. “He what?”

“Suze?”

The kids all turned again as Pokaski jogged towards them from the direction of the Mess Hall. Pam tried to sweep the kids behind her to protect them, but the instant Suzie saw Pokaski, she sprinted towards him.

“Cole!”

Suzie threw herself into his arms as Pokaski dropped to his knees, and he hugged her tight, muffling Suzie’s sobs against his shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened back there in the mess hall?” He pulled back from the hug to look her over and brush the tears from her cheeks. “I thought we talked about starting more fights!”

She shook her head as she continued to hold on tight to the shoulders of his uniform. “I know, I'm sorry, but it wasn't a real fight! I promise!”

Pokaski frowned at her in confusion before he noticed Pam and the other two kids approach them. Pam didn’t exactly seem happy to see him. “Pokaski, are you…?”

He put one arm around Suzie and glared up at Pam, a little unsure of her after she… well, he wasn’t so sure what she did to him, but he wasn't going to let it happen to his little sister. “Your buddy let me go and sent me here, said you might need help.” Pokaski blinked up at her, trying to remember everything Nate said. “Told me to tell you that I'm just electrical, and I haven't touched the lights?”

Pam’s eyes widened a bit as she connected the dots.

Raleigh inched forward, still holding tight to Kris’ hand. “Mr. Cole, what’s going on?”

Pokaski looked from Suzie to Raleigh and then to Pam, but he couldn’t read her expression. Nate hadn’t explained much, only that the kids were in trouble and Pokaski should listen to whatever Pam told him to do in order to keep them safe. He looked back to Raleigh. “I don't know, but you three need to get out of here.”

Suzie tightened her grip on Cole’s uniform. “No! I'm not going anywhere without you! People around here are going nuts! Nate had a knife!”

Pam leaned down and put a hand on Pokaski’s shoulder. “You said you're an electrician, right? Can you climb these things?” She pointed back towards the light poles that were just as tall as any of the pine trees surrounding the cabins.

Pokaski scratched his head and wet his lips nervously. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good! I need you to search these for a sigil, it's like a - a hieroglyph, a strange symbol - on one of these poles that we have to find and destroy.” Pam grabbed a stick nearby and drew the symbol in the dirt for Pokaski to see. Then she watched his eyes as he stared at it. He didn't seem to instantly recognize it, at least, and that seemed to be a good thing.

Of course, it was a lot to ask one person to go along with, especially after she’d knocked him out, but Pokaski only tightened his arm around Suzie and nodded. When he did, though, Suzie pushed away from him. “I’ll help you!”

“Suze, it’s dangerous climbing those poles, and I don’t have any harnesses that will fit you! And I'd much rather you go hide some place safe,” Pokaski told her, but Pam could see just about how far he was going to get with that argument when Suzie crossed her arms over her chest and planted both her feet.

She wasn’t going to be moved.

And they didn’t have time to argue. Pam turned to the kids. “Kris, Raleigh, you help him too! I need to get something, but I'll be back! Hurry - and be careful!” As Pam ran off, the kids all turned to Pokaski.

He blinked back at them and frowned. “Well, there’s kid-sized harnesses at the ziplines…”

Raleigh groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes. “We’re all gonna fall to our deaths!” Kris patted him on the back and smiled, giving a thumbs-up.

* * *

Panic squeezed Nate’s chest tight as he stared at Matt and Matt stared back. The sunlight shining in through the windows couldn’t soothe the layer of ice that seemed to have settled across their skin, and Matthew glanced around, trying to remember how he got there and why.

It felt like a dream, a nasty, horrible dream that he couldn’t wake up from. And that was a distinctly familiar and unsettling feeling.

“Nate?” He stepped forward.

And Nate stepped back, eyes skimming across Matt’s face, his hands, his shoulders. His own familiar sensation of staring down a threat wrapped its cold fingers around his throat.

And Matt knew that look - the same way Nate had looked at him in the yard in front of Matt's burning house, the same way he looked at him in the motel in Caliente, or stared at the hallucinations that would send him spiraling into a panic attack as a kid. It hit Matt like a blow to the stomach. “Nate, what are you talking about? The last person who called me Afton was Hawkins, and he was possessed!”

His grip on his knife tightening, Nate stammered, “I-”

The longer he tried to remember what he was doing in the office, the more Matt began to feel himself unraveling. Why was Aliya tied up? Where were the kids? He twisted around to look behind him only to feel something jab him in the back. Reaching around behind him, he pulled something from the waistband of his jeans.

An iron hunting knife.

Nate stared with wide eyes as Matt drew it, holding it in the air between them.

“This is _your_ knife; you said you lost it!” Matt looked up at Nate again, his voice raising in pitch as he demanded, “Why do I have your knife?” But he knew why.

Matt turned from Nate and paced away as Nate felt his shoulders go slack, his head buzzing like it was full of angry hornets. He couldn’t explain. He couldn’t tell his brother what he meant because it would lead to so many more questions, more than Nate ever wanted to answer as long as he lived, especially with the word carved into his abdomen still burning.

“Matt, calm down,” he begged, but he knew there was no point.

“Calm down?!” Matt wailed, spinning back towards Nate so fast his little brother winced. “I - How did I even-?” His mind raced so quickly, and his heart hammered right along after it. Why couldn’t he remember anything? The last thing he knew, he was with Nate and Pam in the mess hall, and then Aliya spoke to him. What had she said?

Gaps in his memory, Nate flinching back from him, the iron knife - Matt knew what it all meant, but he couldn't - It was too much. That word "MINE" seared into the inside of his skull, blood welling up on his brother's skin, those broken stitches. Nate wouldn't tell Matt who hurt him. He wouldn't say. He could hardly breathe. And now Matt knew why.

Because all that time - he'd been looking right at him.

Matt wanted to throw up.

As his brother curled in on himself, Nate heard Aliya shift and groan. He turned to her, noting the bruises on her face, partially hidden by a wave of hair. Nate leaned down and gently jarred her awake, and he set his knife aside. It was easier to focus on her than - well, anything else that was happening.

“Aliya? Hey, Aliya!” He inspected the bruises more closely, but they didn’t look too bad.

When she finally opened her eyes, Aliya glanced around. Her whole body jolted in fear when she caught sight of Matthew. “Nate, you have to stop him! He's crazy! He attacked me!”

But Nate recognized something in her eyes, the same glint of magic he'd seen as Hawkins swung that crowbar through the air, and he reached for his knife again, snatching it up and aiming it at her as he stood to his feet. “Don't try it! I know he's possessing you.”

Aliya frowned at him, her eyes crinkled up in confusion, the corners of her lips turned down. “What are you talking about?”

When Nate heard someone approaching behind him, he turned quickly, knife ready just in case, but Matt only stared down at Aliya, his hands shaking at his sides. He looked shell-shocked. His chest heaved with every breath, and Nate felt all twisted up inside, unsure of what to do or who to believe. “Matt?”

For a moment, Matt continued to stare at Aliya in confusion, like he was trying to work something out, but then he blinked. His eyes shifted back to Nate. And in just that amount of time, he wasn’t Matt anymore.

“Surprise!” he sang as Aliya kicked at Nate’s legs from behind.

With a blow to one knee, Nate collapsed with a pained cry, down onto his knees, and Matt, grabbing his jaw, punched him. Crumbling forward, Nate’s head hit the side of the desk as he fell.

The room spun around him as Nate gasped and rolled onto his back, blinking up at his brother through tears. His whole body locked up in fear, back in his bunk in the darkened cabin with his big brother smirking down at him, the iron knife hovering just above his skin, and Nate fought just to get a breath in his lungs. Above him, Matt stood casually, a smile on his lips as he tsked in disappointment. “Nate, Nate, Nate. You just had to go and ruin the surprise!”

“Get out of my brother you son of a bitch,” Nate hissed through his teeth, but the effort of it made his voice break.

Matt flinched back with a hiss, feigning indigence. “Oh, that’s rude!” He turned suddenly and stomped on Nate’s ride side, right on his stitches, and as pain exploded through him, Nate screamed, coughing and choking. He rolled to his left and his vision went dark for a moment, and in the next, Matt was dragging him to his feet.

Nate, mind addled by the pain stabbing through his chest and the fear that was very quickly overwhelming him, fought for control of his arm to strike at Matt with his knife, but before he could, Matt slammed him against a nearby window and the knife fell from his hand. The glass shattered against the force of the impact. But Matt kept a firm grip on Nate’s shirt and pinned him in place.

“You don't know a thing about my mother. But I knew yours, Nathan.” Matt tilted his head to the side as he leaned closer to Nate, his brother shrinking back. “Sweet little, dark-eyed Nora. You know, you look just like her. Maybe that's what makes this feel so familiar.”

With a snarl, Nate kicked Matt backwards and tumbled to the floor as another gasp of pain rattled in his aching chest, but he managed to stay on his feet and push himself up using the wall. Catching himself against the desk, Matt leered up at Nate who took the second knife from his boot and spun it into a back-handed position.

They squared off, but Matt sensed Nate hesitating.

“What's wrong?" The smirk on his face grew as he placed a hand to his chest. "I thought you were scared to hurt heroic Matthew-”

But Nate punched him in the face before he could finish, and Matt lurched backwards. Then with his empty hand, Nate grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragged him down as he kneed Matt’s stomach, and then slammed him down onto the desk. Releasing him, Nate watched, face void of emotion, as Matt dropped to the floor, unconscious.

“Everyone outgrows their heroes.”

A noise behind Nate alerted him to the threat just in time. He spun around to deflect Aliya’s attack as she swung Matt’s silver knife at him, the tip of the blade stopping less than inch from Nate's eye, but it knocked him off-balance, already on shaky feet. He stumbled back, tripping over Matt’s body, and landed on his back on the floor. Aliya raised her arm to attack again, a feral look in her brilliant green eyes.

“Aliya!”

The young woman turned just as Pam, her open journal held in one arm, slung a spell at her. Lifted and launched backward by an invisible wave of force that cracked like thunder through the small room, Aliya flew over Nate’s head and hit the wall behind them. She tumbled to the floor, the knife falling from her hand and clattering a few feet away. Panting, Nate gawked up at Pam who studied the two brothers for a moment, in a tangle there as they were. She shut her book, tucked it under one arm, and then grabbed Matt, rolling him over onto his back and searching him for something.

“Hey - hey! What are you doing to him?” Nate shouted and struggled to sit up. Even as his side hammered pain through him like a chisel into stone with each heartbeat, he clutched at it and used his other arm to try to push Pam back from Matt. “Get away!”

With the panic still running cold through his veins, Nate tried to shield his brother from her. He couldn’t let Pam hurt Matthew for what Afton had forced him to do, for what Nate had hidden from Matt. It wasn’t his fault. And Nate would eat glass before he’d let Pam near his unconscious brother with her book full of stolen spells.

But when he managed to shove Pam aside, Nate finally saw what she’d been doing. She had unbuttoned the top of Matt’s shirt far enough to reveal something scarred into the skin just beneath his collarbone, near his heart. It was a sigil, one of the ones that Nate had seen Matt draw over and over again, the same ones painted onto the floor in the storage basement where he’d found Matt, the same one that had been burned into the Springtrap suit.

Afton’s sigil.

“What the hell,” Nate whispered, his whole body shaking.

Pam started flipping through her journal again and only spared a few short glances up at Nate as he tried to get control of his panicking body again. “I’m guessing that’s not a birthmark.”

Nate stared at the mark with wide eyes, then at Matt's face, his eyes closed, hiding Afton somewhere behind them. Then, with newfound purpose, he searched the room around him then until he found his iron hunting knife, and he raised it over the sigil before Pam darted forward and grabbed his arm to stop him. “What the hell?!” She knocked the blade from his hand and shoved him back so that his back hit the desk behind them. “What are you doing? Are you insane?!”

But Nate didn’t take his eyes off the sigil. So that was how Afton was doing it. That’s how he was possessing his brother and using him like a human puppet and ruining their lives all over again. Nate couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop staring at it, realizing that it had been there all this time and Matt hadn’t told him. Just like Nate hadn’t told him about what Afton was doing to him.

Had they ever once been fully honest with each other? Fully trusted each other?

“If we destroy the sigil-” Nate stammered, clutching his arms around himself to try to stop the shaking. He didn’t have time to fall apart right now. “If we destroy the sigil, it will break the curse, right?”

“Are you actually an idiot?” Pam howled at him, and Nate didn't defend himself, or react at all really. Just stared at her with wide eyes. Pam forced herself to be patient and sighed. “I don't know what your obsession is with cutting your brother open, but that's not going to do us any good now.”

Nate looked down at the healing scar on Matt’s hand. He just thought he’d been doing the right thing. He did the only thing he knew how to do. It was supposed to work; it was supposed to fix it. This was never supposed to happen.

“I just… I’m trying to save him.” Or so he thought.

“Well, so am I!” Pam shouted and held the journal up to Nate’s face. “That’s why I brought this!”

Nate frowned at her. He wasn’t sure why she seemed to care so much. It certainly wasn’t because she liked Matthew or vise versa. He stared back down at his brother, wondering what in the world she thought she was going to do to fix this. And when Matt started to stir, Nate panicked all over again.

He didn’t know how he was going to explain anything.

Or what he’d do if Afton woke up instead of Matthew.

So he grabbed a nearby landline phone that had fallen from the desk and unplugged the cord from it, turning Matt over onto his side and winding the cord around Matt’s wrists as his eyes opened.

“Where - what?” Matt looked around, realized what Nate was doing to him, and tried to pull away. He wouldn’t be tied up again - not again - not after the basement with Afton and the animatronics and those nightmares. He pulled at his wrists and kicked, but Nate wouldn’t let him move. He needed to move! “Nate, what’re you - what’s going on?”

Nate couldn’t tell whether the pain in his chest was from his bleeding wound or how tightly his heart squeezed at the sound of Matt’s panicked breathing. “Just - just take it easy.”

“Nate, what is going on?” Matt snapped and forced himself up onto one elbow so that he could look around.

But Nate put his free hand against Matt’s chest to keep him down. “Just stay still!” He took a deep breath and focused on staying calm, on looking Matt in the eyes, on just not losing his mind. “We’re trying to save you. Just relax.”

“Relax?!” Matt twisted at the telephone cord and hit his head against the floor, hating that he couldn't get his brain to shut up - shut up screaming that everything was wrong and he'd hurt his brother and - “Oh - oh god.” Tears sprang up in his eyes, and a wave of nausea swept over him. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. “He’s inside me, isn’t he?”

He saw Pam glance towards Nate, saw the look of terror cross Nate’s face, and Matt knew. The fire was his fault, Nate’s panic in Caliente was his fault, and those broken stitches, those jagged, red letters in his little brother’s skin… Matt gagged, his heart pounding.

“Damnit! I knew it! I knew there was something more going on.” He shook his head, hit it against the floor again, tears streaking down the sides of his face into his hair. “I didn’t start that fire. I didn’t start it. I didn’t want to hurt Stephanie!”

Nate twisted his finger in the bracelet on his wrist until it cut off the circulation to his hand and then some. “You knew? All this time?”

Matt threw his head to one side, his eyes clenched shut. “No, I didn't know he was possessing me! But I knew he was screwing with me somehow!” Of course, the sigil in his skin was the same as any other of Afton’s object that he marked. It made Matt no different, just another of William Afton’s little creations to keep himself alive.

Pam raised one hand into the air above her head in frustration like she was reaching out for some hand to grab that might steady her. “Hey - hey! Shut up! Both of you! You can have your individual meltdowns later, okay?” Then she smoothed her other hand over the pages of her journal, settling on one in particular. “Here, this should work.”

“‘Should work’?” Nate hissed at her. He was nearing the end of his rope. “You know, nothing you've said today has really inspired a lot of confidence in you!”

“I told you! I’m new to this!” Pam shouted back. And besides, there wasn’t exactly a guide on how to deal with evil shtrigas that stuck parts of their soul into other people and how to get rid of them without killing the host in question.

“I don’t care!” Nate didn’t have time for uncertainty; Matthew didn’t have time for it. There was no telling when Afton would make another move, and too many lives were at stake. “This is my brother here. I'm going to need something more than ‘should work’ -”

Suddenly Matt gasped, his mouth falling open, and his eyes screwing shut, as another barrage of mental images smashed through his consciousness, searing the backs of his eyes with blinding flashes. The back of his head hit the floor hard, his fingers winding in the telephone cord.

Distantly he could hear Nate calling for him, “Matt? Matt!”

Matt’s whole body writhed with the burning pain leeching across his skin like fire, the empty pit yawning open wide in his chest like a void he could never fill, the crack in the foundation that Afton had squeezed himself into and buried himself deep. Matt choked around his own screams.

“Matt!” Nate watched in horror, unable to reach his brother through the haze of the visions. “Damnit - what’s going on?”

Pam reached a hand forward and brushed her fingers across Matt’s forehead only to draw her hand back with a hiss as if she’d touched a hot stove. Her eyes widened. She stared down at Matthew, having caught only a glimpse of what was happening behind his eyes, the onslaught of visions crammed in from another consciousness. It was no wonder it was tearing him apart.

“What did you do?” Nate demanded and reached for Matt. He could feel his brother’s terror as palpable as his own. “Pam, what do we do to help him?!”

But there was nothing either of them could do.

Afton was in control now.

_Useless._

_Weak._

_Little puppet, you're going to choke yourself on those strings._

Matt could taste blood, and as the vision faded, his tongue probed his mouth to find where he’d bitten into the inside of his cheek and broken skin. His hands tied behind his back, the taste of his own blood, the buzzing in his skull, the empty sensation in his chest all left him feeling like he was back in Afton’s little party room beneath the ground in the storage basement.

He refused to open his eyes, refused to see what he assumed was waiting for him: Afton’s smiling face, the haunted gazes of the animatronics, nightmares of every possible kind so deep and dark that he could hardly breathe at the thought of them. But another sensation reached him through the panic, an arm around him, lifting him up, a hand on his forehead.

Nate’s voice. “Hey, come on big guy, stay with us.”

He had to get to Nate, if he could only get his hands untied, if only he could get his voice to work and call out to him. Nate had to know that he was trapped in here. He had to find him. Matt struggled, claustrophobia welling in his chest. Still he couldn’t bear to open his eyes.

“Take it easy, take it easy. Just breathe.”

Breathe, okay, breathing, he could do breathing. Matt focused on that for a little while until he remembered - remembered where he was, what he’d done, what he saw. The visions, that was what had sent him into the spiral. That meant… He opened his eyes just enough to glimpse his brother’s face. Nate’s was screwed up with worry, almost haggard. He looked so tired, and Matt felt so sick. It was his fault, after all. Everything was his fault.

And despite it all, Nate was worried about him.

Seeing his brother’s eyes open, Nate felt a flush of relief, and he pulled Matt into a tight hug, a hand on the back of Matt’s head. “What did you see?”

“The… the lake,” Matt tried, his thoughts and his words still uselessly scrambled. “Um, a canoe…” He frowned up at his little brother in attempt to make sense of any of it. “You, but ten years younger?”

Nate set his jaw. He’d seen the same thing, back when he and Matt parked on the side of the road after Matt found him. Nate hadn’t thought much of it then, what with his hallucinations getting so mixed up lately, ever since Charlie and Afton’s battle of wills. But now, he knew it had to mean something.

Pam looked up at Nate. “What are you talking about, ‘saw’? What does that mean?”

Ignoring her as the sensation of blood beneath his fingernails returned to him, Nate looked out the window to see an image of himself staring back in at him. He was young, hair long and dark and bushy, and he wore the Camp Wannapee shirt. So it had to be from the summer they spent there as kids. Only something was missing. Nate was sure of it. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, until… Nate reached up and touched the headband he wore.

The kid wasn’t wearing one.

It wasn’t him.

And Nate had a terrible, sinking feeling that he knew who it really was.


	14. Just Close Your Eyes and Make Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warning:
> 
> Someone in this chapter is going to have a bad time.

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

Up among the trees, Pokaski searched for the sigil that Pam had drawn for him in the dirt. Through the shifting shadows of bending branches, he tried to make out the surface of the metal, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of something out of the ordinary. And, not for the first time that day, Pokaski felt a little stupid for thinking there might be.

“Did you find anything?” Raleigh called up to him from the ground, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Pokaski sighed. “No, nothing. Just a lot of shoddy welding and loose cables.” He adjusted his safety equipment and started to climb down again.

Suzie hopped the last few feet to the ground behind Raleigh and dusted off her palms on her shirt. “'S not on that one either." She peered up and turned in a circle to look around at the other light poles. "That's all of them, and we haven't seen anything!”

Raleigh turned to her, shaking his head. “It's not all of them, Kris was looking for one.” They shielded their eyes from the sun as they searched around for him but couldn’t spot Kris anywhere among the trees.

He was high up near the top of the final light pole, and climbing the last few rungs, Kris stopped suddenly. There, burned into one of the metal plates on the back of a large light, Kris could see the sigil glowing softly like the metal it was branded on was still hot, though he didn't feel any heat coming off of it. Far below he could see his friends on the other side of the Square. So he climbed down quickly and dropped to the ground among the trees.

Kris started to run to his friends when he thought he heard something in the bushes behind him, a rustling like something was moving towards him, and fast. He turned and peered at the underbrush surrounding the base of several trees. Poking at the base of the bushes, Kris began to search for the source of the noise, but none of the bushes yielded anything other than a few crawly bugs and a fat squirrel making off with half of someone’s granola bar.

Satisfied that it was only the squirrel, Kris turned back in the direction of his friends. They hadn’t seen him yet, but boy would they be surprised when he told them he’d been the one to find the sigil! Just as Kris started towards them, something reached out of the trees behind him, grabbed him, and covered his mouth, dragging him deeper into the woods.

Raleigh raced to the bottom of the light pole that Kris had just been climbing in and glanced up. “Did you find anything, Kris?” But there was no response.

Suzie, catching up with him, rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to answer you. He can’t talk.”

“Yes, he can!” Raleigh argued, stamping his foot. “You just never listen!”

A little stunned by Raleigh’s outburst, Suzie started to search the surrounding area for any sign of Kris. She was just starting to think that maybe he’d gone back to the cabin without telling any of them when she spotted something half-hidden beneath one of the nearby bushes, a pin in the shape of a skull with one blue eye. At first she thought it might've just been dropped by anybody, but then she realized that she recognized it. It was one of the pins from Kris’s backpack.

“Ralsei - Ralsei!” Suzie cried and picked up the button to show him. They both stared at it a moment, there in the palm of Suzie’s hand, before they shared a worried look and turned towards the trees. Suzie gripped the pin in her fist. “KRIS!”

* * *

Dragged along through the trees, Kris struggled to keep his feet beneath him. Grunts and gasps of protest escaped his mouth though the collar of his t-shirt was wound tight around his neck where Aliya had her hand wrapped in the fabric. They broke through the trees and made their way to the dock where Kris saw the water and went limp, becoming a dead weight at the fear of what Aliya planned to do with him.

Despite his best efforts to be as heavy as a wet log, she pulled him the last few feet to the end of the pier and tossed him over the edge. Only instead of hitting the water, Kris felt his back and his head smack hard against wood, and looking around, he realized he’d landed in one of the canoes. Aliya climbed in after him and picked up the oar.

Her voice hissed through clenched teeth. “He thinks he can just ignore me!” With the oar, she pushed off from the dock and began rowing them towards the center of the lake. “Just cast me aside after everything I've done for him! I gave him you little pipsqueaks, you know! Little brats that no one would miss.”

Aliya glared down at Kris who had gathered himself into a ball in the other end of the canoe, as far from her as he could manage. “It's not like anyone else wanted you. And he liked you! I thought he was going to take your souls! But no! He decides he likes mine instead!” She shook her head in disgust, nose wrinkled up at the thought. “Of all the - ugh!”

Glaring out over the water, the sun beating down on her skin felt like fire to the chill in her bones. Finally, her gaze landed on Kris again as he stared at her in terror. Sneering, Aliya mocked him, “What are you looking at, you little freak? Can't even scream for help?” Kris narrowed his gaze at her, his hands turning to fists at his sides, but still he didn’t utter a word. Aliya rolled her eyes. “At least it will make killing you a lot easier.”

* * *

Pokaski came running when he heard Suzie’s shouts. He found her and Raleigh pushing further into the woods and stopped them. The last thing he needed at that moment was for the kids to wander off. “Hey, hey! Suze, what happened?”

Raleigh pulled off his hat, his hair a messy cotton fluff on his head as he twisted the hat in his hands. “Someone took Kris! He’s gone!”

Suzie pounded her fist into the palm of her other hand and growled, pacing back and forth. “Bet it was our psychotic counselor! Or Aliya!”

Biting down on his quivering lip as his eyes filled up with tears, Raleigh shook his head at Suzie. “Mr. Matt wouldn’t hurt us!”

“He sure did try,” Suzie muttered and tossed the pin onto the ground with another agitated growl. Raleigh stared down at the pin as more tears began to well up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks. He didn’t want to believe that Matt was bad. Matt was the only counselor they'd had that summer who really liked them. But Raleigh also wanted his friend back. He stooped down, picked up the pin, and held it close to his chest, sniffling.

In the distance, they heard Nate and Matt call out for them, Pam close behind. “Kids!” Nate broke into a run as soon as he saw them, but as soon as Suzie saw Matt coming near, she put herself between him and Raleigh.

“Don’t you touch him, you freak!”

Matt stopped short as if he’d been hit in the chest. Slowly he raised his hands and backed up a few steps, and Nate stepped in front of him defensively. “Hey! That wasn't Matt, okay? That wasn't his fault. He's not going to hurt you guys anymore.”

Glancing around, Matt rubbed at his wrists where the cord had been wrapped around them. “Where’s Kris?”

Suzie glared up at him, refusing to answer, but Raleigh was desperate. He stepped around her and held out the pin to Nate. “Someone grabbed him! He was here looking for that thing you told Mr. Cole to find, but now he's gone! Suzie found this here in the grass.”

Nate took the pin and held it up to Matt who froze at the sight of it. “That’s from his backpack.”

“Damnit!” Nate turned in a circle, scanning the area for any other signs of him, but there were few marks of a struggle, just scuffs in the pine needles where they were standing, and even that was too difficult to read to tell which direction Aliya had taken him. He turned to Pam. “Find that sigil! Destroy it, set it on fire, whatever you have to do! Clearly he's still got a hold on her!”

Pokaski pointed towards the light pole nearest to them. “Kris was checking this one last before he disappeared, so I’d bet it’s here.”

Pam nodded at him and then grabbed at Nate as he tried to walk past her. “And what are you going to do? Not something stupid, I hope.”

Matt answered her before Nate could. “We’re going to get Kris back and finish this.” Then they turned together and ran towards the lake. The canoe - Matt thought with that horrible sinking feeling still in his gut - he'd seen a canoe in his visions, but as they reached the clearing just before the beach, Nate froze.

“Hey.”

Matt turned back to him, not wanting to stop for a moment. He didn't know how much time Kris had. “What is it?”

Nate started back in the other direction suddenly, shouting, “I got to grab something!” before disappearing back down the trail. Matt watched him for a moment, conflicted, and then ran the rest of the way to the shore alone.

* * *

The canoe spun in a slow, lazy circle in the center of the lake, and Aliya scratched at her arms, glancing around at the sky, the trees, the shore as if there were eyes everywhere, watching her. Whispering voices crowded her ears, and she clamped her hands on either side of her head in a pathetic attempt to block them out.

Kris watched her, his heart hammering inside his chest like it would break through at any moment, as Aliya began muttering to herself. He inched as far away from her as he could manage without falling over the edge of the boat and into the water. But he was starting to think he'd rather try to swim his way back to shore than stay there much longer with her.

“I know! I know! Bloody - shut up - SHUT UP!” Aliya shouted, her whole body shaken by her scream.

“Aliya!”

Kris and Aliya both turned towards the shore where Matthew broke through the trees, kicking up sand as he reached the edge of the water. He waved his arms at them and shouted, “Aliya - come back!”

Aliya’s green eyes widened, and she reached a hand up to her head. “Afton? Afton, is that you?”

Matt twitched, his body momentarily frozen, before he shook himself out of it. “No, Aliya, it's me, it's Matt! You know, MatPat? I taught you how to rock-climb!" He gripped his hands together in front of him, practically pleading with her to snap out of whatever spell she was under. "Just come on back, Aliya, before someone gets hurt!”

But that was the wrong thing to say. Aliya drew backwards in the boat, tossing it uncontrollably as she did and causing Kris to clutch at the edges of the boat with a terrified squeak. “I don't care about you, Matthew Patrick! You're the last person I want to talk to right now!” Her voice became even more desperate as the whispering picked up again, and she kept stealing glances towards Kris. “I want _him_ ! I _need_ him back! I need to show him that I did everything he asked! I was faithful!”

His whole body going cold again, Matt felt an invisible hand around his throat, a voice in his ear reminding him that this was all his fault. He thought he was going to break. He was going to break, and Afton was going to take over again. And someone was going to get hurt, but just as the blood rushing through his ears reached a fever pitch, he heard a twig snap to his left.

Matt glanced into the bushes where Nate had knelt down, out of view of Aliya, but within Matt’s line of sight. And he held out one hand towards Matthew, the faded bracelet around his wrist catching in the dappled sunlight. Matt felt a warmth smooth over his frazzled nerves. Nate, his kid brother, he was there, and he wouldn’t let Matt hurt anyone.

He turned back to Aliya. “You did, I know it. I know what he asked of you, Aliya - but I'm asking you, come back, please. You work here because you love kids, you don't want to hurt them!” Matt thought back to the office, thought back to the moment that some part of him had been strong enough to overpower Afton so that he wouldn’t hurt Suzie. “I snapped out of it for the same reason! You can too!”

But Aliya only laughed and shook her head. Slowly, she rose to her feet, and Matt felt his chest clench tight. She smiled at him, all sunshine and yellow flowers and blue skies, even across the water he could see her smile. “Why would I want to? After everything he's promised me? Everything he's said to me? Done for me?”

She moved fast, so fast that Matt wasn’t sure how she didn’t end up turning over the boat. But she grabbed Kris by the collar of his shirt again, hauled him up to his feet, and pulled him close even as he struggled. The boat bobbed and pitched, but neither of them fell in. “If all I have to do for him to keep his word is kill one stinking kid that no one wants? It's a small price to pay for eternal life, Matthew!”

From her belt, she drew Matt’s silver knife and put it to Kris’ throat.

Matt's whole body jolted a few steps forward. “No - no! Aliya! Stop! Stop this!” He felt so helpless standing there on the beach while they were yards away from at the center of the lake. There was no way for him to reach them in time, nothing he could do but stand there and watch.

Aliya’s bright, sunshine smile turned sad as she watched him, and she shook her head. “I'm sorry, Matt. We could have been together, forever.” She lifted the knife.

And Nate stood from his hiding place, an arrow notched in the bow he’d retrieved from the archery range. “Hey!” Aliya turned to look at him just as he fired, giving her only seconds to dodge the arrow sailing past her head.

In the moment she was distracted by the arrow, Kris threw off the arm that she had wrapped around him. Again the boat began to pitch in the water, and Kris fell backwards. Tumbling over the edge of the canoe, he splashed into the lake and disappeared beneath the surface.

“Kris!” Matt shouted from the shore. In a snap decision, he ran down the pier, kicked off his shoes, and dove in. Behind him, Nate notched another arrow, blood flowing freely from the wound in his side yet again, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry about that now.

He took aim at Aliya and focused on breathing. In and out. In and out.

* * *

Pam raised her hands towards the sigil burned into the light pole. The spell spilled from her mouth in a dark, menacing whisper that sent chillbumps over the kids’ skin. Pokaski gripped both of them close to his sides and watched as the sigil began to glow brighter far above their heads.

Pam continued muttering her spell, smirking as sparks showered down around her.

* * *

Nate watched the water, his heart hammering in his chest and blood pounding in his ears, and after a moment, he saw Matt’s head break the surface of the water. Kris’ followed soon after, and the kid gasped for air, clawing to keep hold of Matt who lifted him a few inches to make sure he could breathe. Aliya screamed in rage at the sight of them and lifted the oar into the air to swing at them.

Another arrow whizzed past her face.

She turned her burning gaze back to Nate who smirked and aimed another arrow. “Plenty more where that one came from, sunshine!”

“You can’t stop me!” she screamed, red in the face. “You won’t stop me!”

“Not with that attitude!” Nate called, then turned his attention to the two in the water, “Kris - the bag!”

Kris, looking back towards the shore and remembering the bag that Nate had given him, he fished it out from inside his soaked t-shirt and handed it to Matt. With a glance towards his brother, seeing the look in his eyes, Matt tossed the bag into the air between himself and Aliya.

She hissed, “Why, you little -!”

Nate’s arrow flew over the lake, pierced the hex bag, and sunk deep into the flesh of Aliya’s shoulder, pinning the magical mix of herbs and ingredients to her. Aliya screamed, and something beneath her skin flashed bright, burning away the darkness wriggling inside her chest. When the unnatural light faded, she slumped into the canoe, and everything fell silent.

* * *

The sigil glowed brighter and brighter until it was blinding to look at, and Pam had to squint to keep her eyes on it, to not lose focus. More sparks showered to the ground around her, catching in the dried pine needles and sputtering out in smokey, green flames. The brighter it grew, the hotter it became, and Pokaski pulled the kids away from it just as the sigil exploded in a crackle of summer thunder.

The blast nearly knocked them all off their feet and blew out the lightbulbs overhead, littering the ground with broken glass. When the smoke cleared, the air tasted of burnt hair and sulfur, and Raleigh coughed and hacked, waving his little hand in front of his face. “Did it work?”

Wordlessly, Suzie pulled away from her brother and broke into a sprint in the direction of the lake. Cole called after her, “Suzie!” And before he could stop him, Raleigh was running after her, too.

“Suzie - wait!”

So Pam grabbed Pokaski by the arm, and they ran after the kids, hoping and praying that the spell had worked in time.

* * *

Matt kicked towards the shore, the weight of Kris around his neck pulling him down as his exhaustion set in, but they were so close. And finally his feet brushed the bottom of the lake beneath them. Just as Matt couldn’t force his legs to move anymore, Nate crashed into the water and pulled them the last few feet to the sand. Kneeling beside them, Nate checked both Kris and Matt for injuries and sighed in relief when he found them safe and sound, just also sopping wet.

Even on the shore, Kris didn’t unwind his arms from around Matt’s neck, his head tucked into Matt’s shoulder, and Matt pressed a hand to the back of his head. “It's okay, it's okay, Kris. I've got you, I've got you.”

“Kris!”

Matt and Nate turned to see Suzie run onto the beach, Pokaski, Raleigh, and Pam not far behind her. Suzie saw Kris curled up tight in Matt’s arms and stopped in her tracks. Panting, she reached a tentative hand forward to touch his shoulder. “Kris?”

Slowly Kris released his hold on Matt’s neck and turned to her, cracking a sly smile. Suzie gasped and laughed loudly. “You idiot!” She scooped him up in a bone-crushing hug as Raleigh ran over to them.

He tugged at Suzie’s arms. “Suzie! Suzie, don't crush him - ack!” Suddenly, Suzie reached out and dragged Raleigh into the hug, too, squishing both the boys together as tight as she could, so happy that they were all finally safe.

Nate snickered as Raleigh complained but then settled happily into the hug, and Matt brushed his wet hair back from his face, smiling at the kids. From behind them, Pam looked down at the brothers, her arms crossed over her chest and a somewhat impressed smile on her flushed face. “I’m sorry I underestimated you two.”

They both turned to look up at her, Matt nodding and Nate giving her a wink. It wasn’t a mistake she was likely to make again.

Pokaski scratched his head as he peered out over the lake. “Uh, is someone going to go get Aliya?”

Everyone stared at the canoe floating listlessly, Aliya’s arm slumped over the side and trailing in the water. Nate winced and snapped his fingers. “Right, knew I was forgetting something.” He looked around, his hand pressed to his bleeding side, and groaned.

“I hate camping.”


	15. You Have Been My Friend. That in Itself is a Tremendous Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.”  
> \- E. B. White, "Charlotte's Web"
> 
> grab the tissues

Camp Wannapee  
August, 2011

They packed their things into their separate cars in silence. Glancing up at his brother, Nate noted the anger in each line of Matt’s face and felt his gut twist. Shutting the trunk, he rested a hand on his side, the fresh bandages wrapped thick beneath his shirt, and he blamed the tightness in his chest on those rather than the obvious tension between him and Matt.

The paramedics that had been called to the scene carried Aliya’s gurney past them to the ambulance, and Pam wasn’t far behind them. They'd had plenty of questions, starting with how a young woman ended up with an arrow in her shoulder in the middle of a lake, but Pam was more than happy to spend an hour sweet-talking the police while Matt and Nate quickly got their things together, just in case. Matt looked up at Pam as she approached. “How is she?”

Pam watched them load her into the back of the ambulance and wrapped her arms around herself. “They say she’ll be fine. Nothing major was hit.”

Nate leaned against the back of the Firebird. “Wouldn’t have shot her if it was going to kill her.”

Rolling her eyes, Pam adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Right. Just wish there was evidence, or witnesses as to who put her on a canoe just for target practice. She certainly doesn't remember anything.” It had taken a little magic just to convince the police to let the brothers go at all. They wanted to interrogate the whole staff to see who might have access to the archery equipment, so she’d set them on the instructor, Josh, instead.

At least it would buy them some time, and hopefully, the brothers would be long gone by then.

Nate shrugged his shoulders, hiding behind a cocky smile. “Heat stroke maybe?”

“Sure, who knows.” Matt slammed the door to his car after he’d tossed the last of his things inside. “There's hundreds of things that can make otherwise completely healthy and sane people black out and do terrible things.” He shrugged, obviously agitated and avoiding Nate’s eyes. “Could be anything.”

Nate shifted uncomfortably, and Pam glanced between the two of them, wondering what had changed between the beach and now. “Sure. Well, who knows. I'm going to go with them. Help her not remember anything.”

“Wow, I can't imagine what that's like, not remembering the horrible things you did.” Matt stalked to the driver’s side of his car, and Nate resisted the urge to say something snarky in reply. They'd just saved the day for once, zero casualties even, but all Matt could focus on was the fact that Nate had tried to protect him from Afton and failed.

Pam watched Nate, but he kept his eyes on his boots, his arms crossed over his chest. Then she clicked her tongue, and with absolutely no desire to get in the middle of whatever was going on between the two of them, she waved to the brothers and started towards the ambulance. “Hey! I'll keep in touch. Good work you two.”

Matt really hoped she wouldn’t keep in touch.

Watching her climb into the ambulance before it sped away, lights flashing, Nate rubbed at his neck with a deep, shuddering sigh. He opened the door to get into the Firebird when a voice behind him made him pause.

“Yo, snotwads!”

He and Matt turned to see the trio racing towards them. Nate grinned. “Hey, there they are.”

Matt knelt down to hug the kids as Nate dealt them all high-fives. Raleigh was the last to hug Matt, squeezing him tight. “Do you really have to leave, Mr. Matt?”

Matthew bit down on the inside of his cheek, avoiding the sore spot from when he’d passed out. He put on a smile for Raleigh, his eyes a little hollow, as he said, “You can probably imagine why I can't stick around. I will miss you though.” He ruffled Raleigh’s hat sadly.

“Here,” Raleigh said and handed Matt a card. "We're sorry you got possessed."

Inside the card it said “Thanks For Saving Us” in colorful letters and was signed by all the kids. Matt teared up a little, laughing as he looked at the drawing. Suzie stepped forward and pointed out the somewhat human-shaped figure. “I drew you!”

Matt squinted up at her. “Is that why I have big monster teeth?”

“Monster teeth?” Suzie frowned at the drawing. “You’re supposed to be smiling.”

Matt giggled some more and patted her on the back. “I am. My mouth full of big monster teeth. See?” He bared his teeth in a big, comical grin and lunged playfully at her. Suzie giggled and darted out of his reach hiding behind Kris who pretended to faint into her arms.

Pokaski approached from the edge of the parking lot and watched closely as Matt played with the kids. Suzie had told him everything that Matt had done, and he still wasn’t sure that he believed Matt wasn’t in control of himself despite what Pam had told him. It was better safe than sorry, especially when his kid sister was involved.

Then Pokaski glanced towards Nate who, meeting his gaze, looked away quickly. Pokaski approached him as Nate blanched a little, embarrassed. He muttered, “Look, Pok- Cole. I'm -”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said first.

Nate blinked up at him. “For what? I've been a total douche this entire time.” Cole smirked, and Nate nodded, tapping the side of his head with one finger. “Sorry, you go ahead.”

Chuckling softly, Cole crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the Firebird next to Nate. He watched the kids horse around with Matt a little longer, happy to see that Suzie seemed to be enjoying herself. “I've always been angry, even as a kid. I didn't like being laughed at, and I wasn't so smart, so that happened a lot.”

He took a deep breath through his nose when he felt frustration spark in his chest. “But after what I did to you, my mom found out, put me in therapy. We tried medications, meditation, sports, all kinds of stuff. Nothing worked.” Cole avoided Nate’s gaze when the younger guy looked up at him. It wasn’t something Cole was proud of. It had been a pretty dark time in his life, but he smiled. “Then, Suzie was born.”

Nate glanced up quickly at the girl, finally connecting a few dots. She pushed Matt over into the dirt, and she and Kris dog-piled him as Raleigh frantically tried to pull them off so Matt wouldn’t be killed. Now that he thought of it, Nate did see a lot of similarities between Suzie and Cole. They had the same snarky smile, the same look in their eyes.

Siblings were weird that way.

“She was a lot like me, and I didn't want her to do the things I did, be the kind of kid I was, so I got my head on straight. I'm working on it, for her. If I can do it, she can too,” Cole explained, and he finally met Nate’s eyes. “But that doesn't excuse the things I did when I was a kid.”

Nate thought back to that fight they’d had as kids, how part of him had wanted to push Cole over the edge. Things like that, they often went both ways. So he waved it off with a shrug. “Hey, man, we were kids. We were all pissed at the world, and if we weren't, we were scared of it and that made us pissed.”

He paused a moment and let that sink in, a little surprised himself that he’d said it. Then Nate looked up at Pokaski again. “But don’t worry about it. Besides…” He glanced down at the friendship bracelet on his wrist and smiled. “It had a happy ending for me at least.”

Smirking, Cole asked, “Yeah? What was that?”

Nate glanced from him to Matt, brushing his thumb over the bracelet. “My hero found me.”

Cole’s grin only widened as he laughed and slapped Nate on the back. He offered Nate a hand, and smiling, they shook. “Good luck, Nate. Watch out for that heroic sibling of yours.”

“You too, Cole,” Nate said with a nod. “Though, if you step outta line, yours will probably kick your ass.”

Cole chuckled and glanced back towards the kids. They'd finally climbed off of Matt and were instead pestering him with questions that it looked like Matt was having a hard time answering - why does Mr. Nate have so many knives? Will Miss Aliya go crazy again? Are there more scary things out there? Then sensing he should intervene, Cole waved to Nate and walked over to Suzie, wrestling her into a hug and ruffling her long, brown hair. Raleigh and Kris both looked up at Pokaski in awe that anyone could out-match Suzie.

Nate whistled to Matt and jerked his head towards the cars. Time to go. He didn’t think that Pam’s little hoodoo would be able to hold the police off for long. They were already testing their luck, and Nate figured that, especially since they’d managed to get out of this one without any soul-sucking, they’d already used up most of that luck.

He dropped into the driver’s side seat and was about to shut the door when Kris appeared there, spooking Nate a little and making him jump. “Whoa! Hello, Little Hero of Hyrule. Wazzup?”

Kris smiled at Nate before he bashfully glanced away again, and Nate really felt sorry to be leaving these kids behind. Suddenly, Nate got an idea. He untied the rolled-up bandana from around his head and motioned to Kris. “Hey, come here. Turn around.”

Matt watched as Kris obeyed dutifully and stood very still as Nate tied the headband into place on the kid’s head. Kris turned back around proudly to present himself, scooping his hair back from his face, and Nate reached out to help him tuck it into the headband in all the right places.

Nate sat back and admired his work. Kris was really a cute kid when you could see his face. He leaned in and bumped Kris’ arm. “You have beautiful eyes.”

Kris giggled and covered his face with his hands. Nate reached out a hand to offer Kris one last high-five. With newfound confidence, Kris reached up and smacked Nate’s hand as hard as he could.

Chuckling, Nate shook out his hand. “Ow! So strong too! Ever thought of pro-wrestling? People love the strong, silent type.” Kris smiled proudly and took a few steps back as Nate started the Firebird, closed the door, and then leaned out the window to say, “Kris, you're awesome. Don't ever change.”

Beaming, Kris scampered back to the other kids. Matt climbed into his own car, and they both watched Cole and the trio wave after them as they pulled through the exit. Matt blinked tears from his eyes and wished he could call Stephanie and tell her all about it.

Only, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn’t call Stephanie, not now that he was on the run from John Smith. He and Nate would have to lay low for a while, especially if news of what happened to Aliya got out. It would alert John, and he’d come looking. They’d have to be smart if they wanted to stay ahead of him. And all over again, Matt felt a gross rotted, sourness in his gut as he thought about everything he’d learned in the last few days, everything that Nate had kept from him.

Nate had endangered Stephanie, not to mention countless others, by not telling Matt what was hiding underneath his own skin, and now - Matt wasn’t sure what to think.

His downward spiral into despair was interrupted, however, when he noticed the Firebird slow ahead of him and pull off the road. Matt copied Nate, slowing to a stop on the side of this lonely stretch of highway just behind the muscle car. He watched Nate get out of the driver’s side, walk around to the front of the vehicle, and lean against it. Then, sighing, Matt put the Prius in park, got out, and walked over to join him.

Nate had fixed his sunglasses in place, his eyes hidden behind the dark frames, and he looked out over the valley to their left, the sun retreating behind the hills and casting the sky in tones of rose gold. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke up, softly muttering, “Twenty questions.”

Matt rolled his eyes at the old game. It used to be his way of getting his little brother to talk when Nate would clam up and refuse to speak a word, but now - after everything - it just seemed silly. “Nate, we’re hardly kids anymore.”

But Nate launched into it anyway. “Why do they refer to ships and planes and boats and stuff with female pronouns? And who decided that?”

Matt sighed. “Nate, I really don't think -”

“Why can't I give my toothbrush female pronouns?” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “People would think it's weird.”

“I appreciate -”

But Nate just kept going, spitting out words faster than Matt could understand them. “I could start calling my car ‘she’ and people would eat it up. Hell, they'd write fanfiction about it! But what do I care? It's just a hunk of j-” His voice broke, and Nate stopped, mouth trembling slightly.

He dropped his head a moment before snapping it up to look out over the horizon again, and swallowing, Matt shifted his weight.

His hands pulling and twisting at the hem of his borrowed shirt, Nate began again, slowly, cautiously, “I never told you about Afton... because I thought I had taken care of it. I genuinely - _genuinely_ thought it was over.”

Oh, Matt thought.

“Maybe I was just fooling myself, but I -” Nate swallowed. His hands turned to fists, knuckles white. “I didn't want to risk you running out again if it wasn't.”

 _Oh_.

Nate looked to Matt who looked back at him, and Nate decided he couldn’t handle it, the eye-contact. Who had made eye-contact a thing anyway? It was a stupid idea. He took a breath that rattled his lungs. “I told you in Vegas that I wanted to go with Dad because I didn't want you following us. I mean,” he grit his teeth, “God, I so wanted you to follow us, I wanted you to fight..." Another breath, they were coming faster now. "But I didn't want you starting something that _he_ would finish. Guess lying to you never mattered much at that point."

In a paper thin voice, Nate gasped, “I just kind of figured - hoped - you would have tried to find me before crap hit the fan.”

Matt looked up at him again, his spine straightening and shoulders pulling back like a puppet pulled to attention. “I _tried_ to find you. Nate, I never _stopped_ trying to find you.”

“Pam said-”

“Pam only knows the part she was involved in, which was the end.” Matt wiped a hand over his face. It made sense then, why Nate had been so pissed at him after the meeting with Pam. He thought - he’d really thought that- Matt sighed. “I didn't want to trust her, and I didn't want to go to her and drag her into this. But when the nightmares started…”

Nate’s head dropped. “You got desperate.”

“I got _too_ desperate.” Matt thought of those three months, those sleepless nights wondering where Nate was, if he was even still alive. Desperate didn’t even begin to cover it.

Nate breathed out through his nose in what might be called a laugh, maybe a choked sob. “Well damn. Guess I owe the you in my head a lot of apologies.”

Matt shook his head adamantly, eyes screwed shut as it all began to really sink in. “You don't owe me anything, or any version of me. I should have gone after you in Vegas.” He wound his fingers in his hair. “None of this would have happened if I had. I let you down again.”

Matt’s hands dropped into his lap. Nate looked at him, and Matt blinked the tears from his eyes. They were clear, lucid, and just Matthew. Nate’s hands opened and closed. “You really don't mind me sticking around, do ya? Even after...?"

More tears fell and hung on the end of Matt’s chin. “Let me count the ways,” Matt said with a rueful smile.

Nate tried to smile back, but, “You know Dad, he…” Nate finally broke, tears cutting through his words as they slowly gathered on dark eyelashes. “He scares the hell out of me, man. I can't - I can’t lose everyone, I don't have anyone left.”

Matt stood as Nate curled forward, and he pulled his kid brother against his chest, Nate gripping his shirt. “That ends,” Matt told him gently.

“That ends now.”

* * *

Camp Wannapee  
May, 2000

Xavon watched from the doorway as Nate packed the last of his things into his duffel bag. He was alone, the last one in the cabin. Before entering, Xavon knocked on the open door, and Nate avoided looking up at him as he wandered over.

“All packed up, brother?”

Nate hauled the strap up onto his shoulder, grimacing slightly under the weight and still avoiding eye-contact. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He moved to leave, but Xavon knelt down in his path so that Nate couldn’t avoid him anymore. And he smiled gently. “You know, when you got here, I said you had something in your eyes.” He reached up to ruffle Nate’s hair. “I thought it was mischief. But I was wrong. It's strength.” Xavon poked Nate in the chest. “You've got a little fire inside you, brother. It burns bright, but if you're not careful, it'll burn bridges. Don't let it.”

Nate looked down at the place on his chest where Xavon had poked him and thought for a moment. Then Xavon offered him a high-five, and Nate grinned, smacking the counselor’s hand as hard as he could.

* * *

In the parking lot, Nate sat on the stone wall that lined one side of the lot and waited. A few other kids were left running around, sharing last goodbyes and promises of returning the next summer. Nate flicked a beetle of the rock beside him. Then looking up, he spotted Matt, and he rose to wave to him. But Matt saw Aliya first and ran towards her instead.

They chatted animatedly, and Nate settled back down, pulling the headband off and stuffing it in his duffel bag, letting his hair fall in odd wisps around his head.

He didn’t notice the van pull up or Mary get out. He didn’t look up until she leaned back inside to honk the horn at him, and when he did see her, Nate hopped down, ran to her, and threw his arms around her neck. “Hey, Nate!” She smoothed a hand over his long hair, smiling. “Oh, I missed you! Did you have a good time?”

Nate pulled back with a shrug. “Eh, it’s just summer camp.”

She ruffled his unruly hair with a laugh. “Woof! Remind me to give you a haircut before school starts up.”

“Mom!” Matt ran and leapt into her arms, and Mary laughed.

“I think you got taller!” She planted a kiss on top of his hair which she wouldn’t be able to do for much longer if he kept on growing at that rate, she realized with a pang. “You're both a couple shades darker at least. I don't think John even will recognize you.” She opened the trunk and helped the boys load their things inside.

“Neither will Chris or Jason,” Matt giggled excitedly and bounced around on the tips of his toes. He might be growing up, but he was still Mary’s little boy, after all. “They're probably fat and stupid by now, playing video games all summer.”

“I wish I was playing video games all summer,” Nate grumbled, and Matt frowned at him.

“MatPat!” It was Aliya, there for one last, mushy good-bye, Nate assumed.

He rolled his eyes and got into the backseat of the minivan, Mary watching him with a sigh as she left the kids to chat. Aliya blushed a little once they were left alone, the pressure of the end of the summer making them both a little nervous. “So, you’re leaving,” she started. “Can you believe we won't see each other anymore?”

“You don’t know that,” Matt said quickly. He certainly hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw Aliya, anyway.

Rocking back and forth, Aliya grinned at Matt. “You know, you could always come stay with me for another week. You can finally meet my brothers, and you'll get out of your house.” She glanced up and saw Mary watching them in the rear-view mirror of the minivan. “I know how much you worry about your mom overworking herself to take care of you two.”

Matt looked toward the van himself and saw just the top of Nate’s head as he peeked out at them, and then even that disappeared when Nate saw he’d been caught. Matt smiled to himself. “Sorry, Aliya. But I've got someone else to worry about now.”

In a moment of bravery, Matt leaned in and kissed Aliya on the cheek, and inside the van, Mary drummed excitedly on the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn at them. When both kids jumped and looked up at her, Mary waved at them in embarrassment before hiding behind her hand.

Aliya giggled and asked, “Your mom?”

But Matt shook his head and glanced back at that familiar mop of dark hair again. “No. Someone who needs me.”

After one last hug good-bye, Matt climbed into the van and plunked down in the backseat next to Nate. He didn’t think that his mom would mind riding alone in the front. Besides, Nate was already full-blown Sulk Mode, and Matt felt like it was at least partially his fault.

“All set?” Mary teased as she watched Aliya skip a few feet from the car.

“Yes, Mom,” Matt answered sternly. Mary pulled out of the parking lot then, and Matt didn’t even notice Aliya waving at them as they drove away. Instead, he looked over and kicked one of Nate’s feet. “Hey, what do you say we go and see how pathetic Chris and Jason have gotten when we get back? I bet it's really bad.”

Nate didn’t move his gaze from where it was fixed out the other window and asked coldly, “I thought you were going to finish off your summer kissing list."

With the sting of rejection, Matt turned away to stare out the opposite window, but after a moment, he got an idea. He stiffened and smacked his forehead. “Oh, darn it!” He scrambled and pulled something from his pocket, a handmade friendship bracelet woven from various pastel colors of thread. “I made this for Aliya but forgot to give it to her.”

Nate snorted, more than a little skeptical, “ _You_ forgot to give it to her? _You_?” Matt hadn’t been able to take his eyes of Aliya all summer, and somehow he’d forgotten to give her that stupid bracelet? Nate didn't find it likely.

Matt pouted down at the little gift. “We were supposed to trade bracelets so we, you know... they're - it's stupid.” Matt sagged to the side and let the bracelet drop onto the seat between him and Nate.

Looking from the bracelet to Matt to Mary and back again, Nate rolled his eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.” He picked up the bracelet from the seat and, as Matt watched from the corner of his eyes, tied it around his own wrist and flashed it at Matt. “There. You happy? You big baby.”

Matt gawked at his little brother, a smile breaking over his face that he tried to hide behind his hands.

Nate frowned at him. “What?”

“It’s - it’s just…” Matt snickered.

“It’s a _friendship_ bracelet, isn’t it?” Nate asked, already a little defensive as he looked down at the bracelet. “We’re _friends_ , aren’t we? So, what’s the problem?”

Matt shook his head. “Nothing, it’s just - it’s so pastel and girly!”

Nate stared at him, back at the bracelet, and then shrugged. The little bracelet had candy-cane stripes of pink, white, blue, green, and yellow, all pastel and bright. Resigned, he said, “Well, my hair's so long I might as well be a girl.”

Matt tossed his head back and laughed loudly, and though Nate rolled his eyes at him, he was smirking, too. When Matt finally stopped laughing and dried the tears from his face, he poked Nate in the ribs. “Oh, you never told me who won the foursquare tournament, new best friend!”

Raising his nose, Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe I won’t.”

“Then I guess I won't tell you what I heard about the stunt you pulled at the archery range,” Matt said, wiggling his eyebrows and leaning his face close to Nate’s.

Nate scoffed, his jaw dropping open wide as he caught Mary giggling at them. “Xavon was there! He put me up to it!”

Matt blew a raspberry laughing. “That’s not what I heard!”

They continued that way for most of the drive home, Mary never getting a word in edgewise, but after a while, she stopped hearing their chatter beneath the sound of the music playing from the radio. Mary glanced back at them to see Nate had fallen asleep with his head against Matt’s shoulder, his hair hanging down in his eyes, and Matt was snoozing as well, his head leaned on top of Nate’s, an arm around his little brother.

There they were, Mary thought, her boys - back together again.


End file.
